Broken Promises for Broken Hearts
by TheFicChick
Summary: He has never once made a New Year's resolution that he kept. She never made New Year's resolutions at all. MerDer.
1. Finding Resolution

**Broken Promises for Broken Hearts**_  
_

_The title for this story is taken from the song "Broken Promises for Broken Hearts" by GW Childs.  
The title for this chapter is taken from the song "Finding Resolution" by Craig Richey._

**Disclaimer:** If they were mine, I'd do all sorts of inappropriate things to them. Particularly to one Patrick Dempsey. Sadly, they are not.

* * *

**Chapter 1: Finding Resolution**

He has never once made a New Year's resolution that he kept. Like probably ninety percent of the population, he makes empty promises to himself every January 1st, and by mid-month he has broken them. In all honesty, he hasn't been the best at keeping promises lately, so a few broken resolutions would fit nicely with his new image. He was fairly certain his wife would agree with him.

The closest he came to ever keeping a resolution was the time he told himself that he wouldn't drink soda anymore, after learning what it would eventually do to his teeth. But really, in the end, all that did was increase his dependence on coffee, as he needed the caffeine to make it through his marathon surgeries and shifts.

But this year – this year would be different. He was making a resolution, and he was determined to keep it. He owed it to everybody. To his marriage. To his career. To himself. To Addison. To Meredith. And so, he was making a resolution.

He was going to let Meredith go. Finally, no strings, for good. He was going to sever the ties that had bound them since the night of the mixer. Since the night she had been destined to be nothing more than a one-night stand, but after which she quickly became a cornerstone in his life.

He had told Addison that it was over. He had told Meredith it was over. He had told himself it was over. He wasn't sure either of the two women had believed him. He certainly hadn't believed himself, and it had become increasingly clear over time that all three parties appeared to be holding their breath. Waiting for the shoe to drop. And so, he was making a resolution. For everyone involved. He was going to let Meredith go.

But with that resolution came the inevitable fine print.

---

She never made New Year's resolutions. She hadn't made them since she was a teenager and her mother had told her that resolutions were for weak people who had no self-discipline at any other time of year. And so, not wanting to appear weak, Meredith had never made resolutions.

This year was no different. She wasn't making any resolutions. But she was making a promise to herself. She was going to let Derek go.

He had told her it was over. She had told him it was over. They had both told Addison it was over. And yet, she waited. She waited for him to get sick of trying to make his marriage work. She waited for Addison to get sick of seeing her husband make eyes at another woman. She waited for something to tell her that she would have another chance. But nothing came. And so, she was making a promise. To everyone. She was going to let Derek go.

But that promise came with one condition.

---

"Hey."

She looked up as he stepped on to the elevator and the doors closed. "Hey."

"Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year to you."

"You working tonight?"

"Nope. Headed home. You?"

"Headed home as well." He shifted his briefcase in his hands. "Big plans to watch the ball drop?"

She shook her head. "I'm not really a big ball-watcher." At that, he quirked his eyebrow. "Shut up," she warned before continuing. "And thankfully, Izzie – the holiday queen – is on call. So I won't be subjected to it involuntarily. And I have my house to myself." She paused. "How about you?"

He shook his head. "No plans. Addison is working, so I'll probably just hang out at the trailer."

She nodded and they fell into an awkward silence as the elevator descended to the lobby. The doors opened and he paused for a moment before stepping through them.

"Well… goodnight."

"Goodnight," she replied, watching him walk away for a moment before hopping through the closing doors.

---


	2. Grand Ol' Party Crash

**Broken Promises for Broken Hearts**_  
_

_The title for this story is taken from the song "Broken Promises for Broken Hearts" by GW Childs.  
The title for this chapter is taken from the song "Grand Ol__'__ Party Crash" by Cage.  
_

**Disclaimer:** If they were mine, I'd do all sorts of inappropriate things to them. Particularly to one Patrick Dempsey. Sadly, they are not.

* * *

******Chapter 2: Grand Ol**'** Party Crash**

Meredith popped the DVD into the player and turned on the TV just as the microwave beeped, alerting her that the popcorn was ready. She grabbed the steaming bag from the microwave and a bottle of water from the fridge before settling onto the couch for her own New Year's Eve celebration. Just as she was about to hit the Play button, the phone rang. She grumbled as she searched the couch cushions for the handset.

"Hello?"

"Mer?"

"Cristina?"

"Yeah. Hey. What's up?"

"Nothing. Just about to watch a movie and eat some junk. You?"

"Nothing. Burke got called in – emergency bypass – so I got out of the New Year's party with his family, thank GOD. Whatcha watching?"

"_When Harry Met Sally._"

"Billy Crystal? Seriously?"

"What?"

"Come on. If you're going to be pathetic and spend an evening on the couch alone, at least watch a movie with someone hot in it."

"Hey! I'm not pathetic!"

"OK. Fine. You're right. You're a wild woman. Now… turn off the TV and come entertain me."

"Entertain you?"

"Yeah. Let's go to Joe's."

"Meh. I don't think so."

"Oh, come on. You're Meredith. The lightweight notorious for drinking heavily when she's depressed and providing much entertainment for bystanders in the process. Why not?"

"Well, as much as I'd LOVE to be your entertainment for the night, I think I'd rather just hang out on my couch and relax."

"You are so boring."

"I know."

Meredith heard Cristina sigh on the other end of the phone. "Well, you want some company?"

"You want to come over and watch a movie?"

"Sure. I mean, only if we can watch something else though. Because seriously… Billy Crystal? So not doing it for me."

"Fine. Well, then, bring something with you."

"Yeah. Right. I'm at Burke's apartment. You want to hear what Burke has in his movie collection?" She could hear the sounds of Cristina getting up and walking across the room. "Here's a random sample. _Schindler's List. Citizen Kane. The English Patient. _A bunch of movies with subtitles. SUBTITLES, for Christ's sake. WHY am I sleeping with this man? He doesn't even have _The Godfather_! I mean, I thought EVERY guy had _The Godfather._ He's a freak."

Meredith laughed. "OK, well, then swing by Blockbuster on your way over."

"Any requests?"

"Not really. Although if you're looking for hot guys… maybe _Ocean's 11_?"

"Ooooh, good call. Clooney, Pitt, Damon… a veritable feast of man-flesh. THAT oughta get your mind off of McDreamy."

"My mind wasn't ON McDreamy!"

"Uh-huh. See you in ten."

"OK. OH! And bring some Peanut M&Ms."

"Got it. 'Bye."

"'Bye."

---

Meredith was just folding the last of her laundry when the doorbell rang. "It's open!" she yelled from the laundry room. She heard the front door open and the sound of her guest dropping keys on the table in the foyer.

"I come bearing hot men and chocolate," Cristina called.

"Which is why you are my friend," Meredith called back. "Be right out."

"'Kay. Want me to put the movie in?"

"Sure."

Meredith placed the last of her folded clothes in the top of the basket and hoisted it on to the top of the dryer. She walked toward the den, brushing the lint from her t-shirt just as the Warner Bros. logo appeared on the screen. She picked up the popcorn bowl from the couch and placed it in her lap as she sank down next to Cristina in the couch cushions. Just as she shoveled a handful of popcorn into her mouth, the doorbell rang again. She looked at Cristina, who shrugged. Meredith sighed, handing the bowl to Cristina and getting up off the couch, brushing her salty fingers together as she made her way to the foyer. As she approached, she could see Derek's silhouette through the glass door. She frowned slightly as she opened the door.

"Hey," she said, her forehead creased in confusion.

"Hey," he replied. They stood in awkward silence for a moment before he spoke again. "I don't know why I'm here."

She shrugged. "I didn't ask."

He nodded and they resumed the silence until she spoke. "Do you want to come in?"

"Sure. That'd be good. Thanks."

She opened the door so that he could step into the foyer. "Cristina and I were just about to watch a movie, if you'd like to join us."

"Uh, yeah. OK. Thanks."

She nodded and turned toward the den with him following closely behind her. Cristina looked up as Meredith entered the room. "Who was…" she trailed off as she saw Derek enter the room. "Dr. Shepherd!"

"Dr. Yang." He nodded at Cristina. "Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year," Cristina replied, her own brow furrowing. She shot Meredith a look, which Meredith chose to ignore.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

"Water would be great. Thanks."

Meredith nodded and headed toward the kitchen. She heard Cristina rise from the couch and follow her.

"What is he doing here?" she hissed when they were both in the kitchen.

"I don't KNOW," Meredith hissed back. "He just… showed up."

"Why?"

Meredith shrugged. "Because he has no plans and it's New Year's Eve?"

"Right. So he randomly shows up at his ex-mistress's house while his wife is, I'm guessing, at work?"

Meredith shrugged again. "Like I said. I don't know. But I can't exactly kick him out, can I?"

They both froze as they heard Derek's voice come drifting in from the den. "Not that it isn't intriguing to listen to you both gossip about me, but if you're going to question my motives, you might want to lower your voices an octave."

Meredith's eyes widened and she glared at Cristina, who shrugged. "Oops."

Meredith grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge and followed Cristina back into the den. Derek looked up as they entered, a small smile playing on his lips. He accepted the water from Meredith, who avoided his gaze. "Thanks. So, what are we watching?"

"_Ocean's 11_," Cristina replied.

He nodded. "Interesting choice. Not at all holiday-related."

"Kind of the point," Meredith replied.

"Ah," he nodded. "OK. Well, fire it up."

Meredith hit the Play button as she lowered herself to the couch next to Cristina, who had warded off any possible "McDreamy moments" by plopping herself squarely in the middle of the couch with the popcorn bowl in her lap.

"Let the hot men roll!" she agreed, cramming a handful of popcorn into her mouth.

Meredith sighed. So much for having her house to herself.

---

"I don't get it," Derek said when the movie ended.

Two pairs of eyes turned to stare at him, incredulous.

"Don't get what?" Meredith asked.

He gestured at the now-blank screen. "I just… don't get it." Meredith and Cristina both stared. "How'd they get the money?"

"You've never seen this before?" Meredith asked.

He shrugged. "Don't watch many movies."

"You're a BRAIN SURGEON," Cristina exclaimed. "A real, honest-to-God BRAIN SURGEON. HOW do you not understand…"

"Cristina." Meredith's tone was warning.

"I'm sorry. But…"

"They had it the whole time," Meredith cut her off. "It was staged."

"Oh." Derek frowned slightly. "Well that's lame."

Meredith shrugged. "It's a Rat Pack remake. And besides… we weren't really going for plotline."

He was quiet for a moment before a smile crept over his features. "Ah… so I interrupted a full-fledged girlie drool-fest. I get it now." He smirked.

"Yeah, well, thanks to you," Cristina muttered under her breath.

"What?" Derek said, at the same time Meredith said, "Cristina."

Cristina turned to Meredith, an innocent look on her face. The three were silent for a moment before Cristina bounced up from the couch and clapped her hands.

"OK. It's New Year's Eve. It's," she checked her watch, "10 p.m. And I've about had my fill of couch-time. Besides… Joe's is having drink specials. My boyfriend is currently repairing some dude's heart." She glanced at Derek before turning back to Meredith. "And, frankly… bars are crawling with guys looking to get lucky on New Year's, so your chances are at an all-time high." She ignored his cough. "So get up. Brush your hair. Put on some hoochie-mama top and let's get going." Derek coughed again and rose from the couch.

"Well, I think that's my cue to head on home."

Meredith rose and shook her head. "No, don't go home. Cristina's right. It is New Year's… why don't we go to Joe's for a drink?" She shot Cristina a look before continuing. "Where I will NOT be looking to cash in on my 'all-time high' chances, thank you very much."

Cristina shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Meredith turned to Derek again. "There's no fun in sitting in an empty trailer by yourself on New Year's Eve."

He looked warily at Cristina, then back at Meredith. After a moment, he shrugged. "OK. Why not?" The smirk returned to his face. "Now where are we on that hoochie-mama top Cristina mentioned?"

Meredith swatted him. "Shut up and get your coat, smartass." And with that, she went upstairs to change.

---


	3. Harder to Break a Habit Than a Promise

**Broken Promises for Broken Hearts**_  
_

_The title for this story is taken from the song "Broken Promises for Broken Hearts" by GW Childs.  
The title for this chapter is taken from the song "It__'__s Harder to Break a Habit Than a Promise__" by Judith and Holofernes.  
_

**Disclaimer:** If they were mine, I'd do all sorts of inappropriate things to them. Particularly to one Patrick Dempsey. Sadly, they are not.

* * *

******Chapter 3: ****It's Harder to Break a Habit than a Promise**

"I'll drive," Derek offered as they walked out Meredith's front door.

"No, it's OK. My car's the biggest," Meredith said, gesturing toward her Jeep, and then toward Derek's sports car. "Someone would have to squish in the back of yours."

"Great," Cristina said, her words contradicting the boredom in her voice. "Now that we've got THAT figured out." She pulled her coat around her small frame and descended the porch steps into the cold.

"Are you sure about this?" Derek asked as she struggled to lock the front door.

"About what?"

"About me joining you. I don't want to crash girls' night out."

"Derek, seriously, it's not girls' night out. Honestly. And there's no point in sitting home alone on New Year's, so you might as well come." She paused and turned to face him. "And contrary to what Cristina says, I'm not looking to pick anyone up in the bar, either."

He nodded. "OK." He zipped up his coat. "Good."

She glanced at him before descending the stairs, hugging her own coat tightly against her to ward off the December chill.

---

Joe's was slammed. In addition to the "regulars," people intent on ringing in the new year in celebratory fashion were crammed into the small bar, talking and yelling in various stages of inebriation.

"Wow," Derek yelled over the crowd. "I don't think I've ever seen it this packed."

"We're never going to find anywhere to sit," Meredith yelled back.

"Wait here," he replied, and pushed his way through the crowd toward the bar.

"I need a drink," Cristina said, her voice barely audible.

"Ditto," Meredith agreed. "I can't believe I let you drag me out here."

"Hey, it's New Year's Eve. You're not supposed to spend it on the couch in front of a movie until you're at least fifty. Get over it." She stood on her toes and looked over the crowd. "Hey!" she yelled, pointing. "McDreamy found a table!" She grabbed Meredith by the arm and dragged her through the bar toward the small table in the corner that Derek had managed to commandeer. She dropped her purse into the booth and unbuttoned her coat. "Nice going, McDreamy."

Derek cleared his throat and opted to ignore the nickname. "Thank you. Can I get you ladies a drink?"

"I'll have a screwdriver," Cristina replied, "And I believe my friend here will have a shot of tequila and a beer."

"Got it." He nodded and once again pushed his way toward the bar.

Cristina dropped into the booth and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Meredith sighed and sat down across from her.

"Oh, would you stop with the sighing? It's New Year's Eve, the one holiday where it's not only socially acceptable to be wasted, it's actually expected. It's like THE holiday for the depressed and single."

"I'm not depressed," Meredith half-heartedly argued.

"But you are single," Cristina replied.

"I was just looking forward to a quiet night in," she said. "I wasn't really feeling up to partying. That's all."

"Yeah, well, I was determined to drink. And I would have left you in peace after our little movie-fest, but I wasn't about to leave you alone with McDreamy in all your self-pitying glory."

"I wasn't…" Meredith began, but she was cut off by Cristina raising her hand.

"Whatever."

Derek reached the table placed the four glasses he had been balancing on the table in front of them and pulled one more beer bottle from his jeans pocket. "Great," Cristina said. "Thanks. Now," she said, pushing one of the shot glasses toward Meredith, "Take your shot and shut up about it."

Meredith glared at her.

"Shut up about what?" Derek asked, lowering himself to sit beside Meredith.

"Nothing," Meredith replied, picking up the shot glass. "Happy New Year," she said to no one in particular before downing the shot in one gulp.

Derek nodded. "Taken like a pro," he said, grinning, and took a shot of his own.

Meredith narrowed her eyes at him. "Since when do you take shots of tequila?"

He shrugged. "I don't. But I felt it was rude to make you do it alone." He followed this with a swig of his beer.  
Cristina snorted. "How chivalrous of you. You're a real knight in shining armor."

"Cristina…" Meredith's voice was warning.

Her friend shrugged and took a sip of her drink, then cocked her head to the side. "What the hell is this song?"

Derek shrugged. "Journey?"

"Well it sucks," she replied. "I'm going to talk to Joe about getting some decent music in this place. Be right back." She scooted out of the booth seat, taking her glass with her.

Left alone, Derek and Meredith once again fell into silence. Derek cleared his throat and took a sip of his beer. Meredith sipped from her own glass and glanced around the bar before he cleared his throat again. She turned to face him.

"So… she doesn't like me too much, huh?"

"Yes she does," Meredith argued.

"Mer."

"Well, it's not that she doesn't like you."

"Could have fooled me."

"It's just… she's my friend. And you…" She trailed off.

After a moment, he nodded. "And I'm the guy who hurt you."

Meredith shrugged, apologetic. "That's how she sees it."

Derek's eyes bore into hers. "That's how she sees it, or that's how it is?"

She sighed. "Derek…"

"I'm sorry," he cut her off. They fell again into the uneasy quiet. "This is weird."

"What?"

"We never used to have trouble talking."

"Yeah, well, things are… different. Now."

He nodded. "Yeah. I guess they are." He took another drink from the bottle and began to pick at the label as Cristina returned to the table. As she did, the beginning bars of Lynyrd Skynyrd began to play.

"Theeere we go," she said. "Much better."

"'Sweet Home Alabama?'" Derek asked. "I thought you were a California girl."

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not a 'California girl,' McDreamy. I happen to be from the state, yes. But 'Sweet Home Alabama' is a classic. It's a jukebox staple." She began to drum her fingers against her glass when suddenly she jumped and reached into her pocket to retrieve a vibrating cell phone. "Burke," she said, glancing at the caller ID. She flipped it open. "Hello?" She plugged her other ear with her finger and frowned as she tried to hear over the buzz of the bar. "Really? Wow. Nice job." She nodded as she listened. "Excellent. Sounds like it was a good one." She nodded again. "OK. I'm at Joe's." Pause. "With Meredith and Mc-- Dr. Shepherd." Pause. "OK. See you in a few." She clapped the phone shut. "He's on his way."

"Great," Meredith and Derek said in unison.

Less than five minutes later, Burke slid into the booth beside Cristina. "Hey babe," she said. "Want a drink?"

He shook his head. "No, thanks." He glanced around. "Wow. This place is jammin'."

"Yeah. Holiday crowd," Derek offered.

Burke nodded and leaned in to whisper in Cristina's ear. Her eyes narrowed slightly and a small smile played over her lips. She took a few gulps of her drink, draining the glass, and put it back on the table. "OK. Ready." Burke slid out of the booth and Cristina slid out behind him.

"What? Where are you going?" Meredith demanded.

"Oh. Um. Yeah. I'm going home."

"Home? Are you kidding me? You just dragged me out to this crazy, packed bar and now you're leaving?"

Cristina shrugged. "Sorry."

"I thought you were determined to drink?" Meredith argued.

"Not as determined as I am to have sex," she said, shrugging into her coat. Burke cleared his throat behind her, clearly uncomfortable.

"What about…" she inclined her head slightly in Derek's direction.

"Oh. Yeah. Um. McDreamy? Don't seduce my friend, or I'll chop your penis off with a 10-blade. 'Kay?" Derek choked on the sip of beer he had taken only moments before and attempted to nod through his coughing. Meredith groaned and lowered her head into her hands. "Later!" Cristina called as Burke led her through the crowded bar.

---


	4. The Sweetest Condition

**Broken Promises for Broken Hearts**_  
_

_The title for this story is taken from the song "Broken Promises for Broken Hearts" by GW Childs.  
The title for this chapter is taken from the song "The Sweetest Condition__" by Depeche Mode.  
_

**Disclaimer:** If they were mine, I'd do all sorts of inappropriate things to them. Particularly to one Patrick Dempsey. Sadly, they are not.

* * *

******Chapter 4: ****The Sweetest Condition**

They had been sitting across from each other in relative silence for the ten minutes since Cristina and Preston had left the bar, each attempt at small talk lapsing once again into uneasy quiet.

Finally, Meredith cleared her throat. "So… you make any resolutions this year?"

Derek's eyes met hers quickly, and she sensed that her innocent question had somehow struck a nerve. He emptied what was left of his beer and licked his lips.

"Kind of." He paused. "You?"

She shrugged. "Kind of."

He laughed. "We both sound like we're going to have a lot of success, what with our level of commitment."

She tried to match his laugh. "Yeah."

He turned toward the bar, signaled to Joe and held up his empty bottle, then held up two fingers before turning to face her once again.

"So what was it?"

"What?"

"Your resolution. What was it?"

"Oh. Um…" She waved her hand. "Nothing important. What was yours?"

Joe put two beer bottles on the table between them and returned to the bar. Derek grabbed one of them and glanced at her quickly. "Nothing important," he echoed, and raised the bottle to his lips.

She nodded and took a sip of her own.

"Yeah. I can see us both doing really well."

"Yeah," he echoed.

"Mine has a condition," she admitted after a moment.

"A condition?" he echoed.

"Yeah. Kind of like a contingency clause."

He laughed. "That's funny. I was calling mine the 'fine print.'"

She laughed, thankful that this time she didn't have to force it. "Fine print," she repeated, raising her drink to her lips. "I like that."

"Why did you need a condition?" he asked.

She looked at him for a long moment, weighing how to be honest without giving away her hand. She shrugged. "In order to really accomplish what I need to accomplish, I needed to… actively engage in my destructive behavior one more time in order to let it go." She bit her lip. "Does that make sense?"

He nodded. "You have no idea," he replied. "Kind of like a final hurrah?"

"Exactly," she said, nodding. "Same for you?" she asked.

"Same for me," he replied.

She nodded again and turned her bottle around in her hands, glancing around the bar, looking for something to divert her attention.

"So this destructive behavior…" he started, bringing her gaze back to his face. "Just how destructive are we talking?"

She shrugged. "If it works, then not too destructive. If it doesn't…" She shrugged. "Then I'm right back where I started."

"Sounds like it's worth the gamble," he offered.

"Yeah. I guess it is."

After a few moments, he gave up the charade. "So what's the resolution?"

She stared at him, trying to read in his eyes how much of the answer he already knew. He stared back, trying to gauge whether he had pushed too far.

They stared at each other for a long minute before she finally broke the silence, her voice low. "I have to let you go."

He nodded, dropping his eyes to the table. He placed his hand on top of the one she had resting on the table, his touch cold from the frost of his beer bottle. "I know," he answered, raising his eyes to hers, relieved when she didn't pull her hand away. "I have to let you go, too."

She nodded. "What was your fine print?"

He gazed at her, debating the cost of laying it all out on the table. "That I needed one more chance to really tell you goodbye."

She nodded slowly. "Mine, too."

He nodded and pushed his half-full drink away from him. "Let's get out of here."

She grabbed her coat off the seat next to her as he rose from the table and extended his hand toward her. She stared at it for a moment before taking it and following him out of the bar.

---

Meredith said a silent prayer of thanks as they pulled into her driveway and she noted that none of the lights were on, and neither George's nor Izzie's car was in the driveway. Derek removed her key from the ignition and handed it to her. She took it and glanced at him, trying to gauge his thoughts at the same time she tried to catalogue each moment in her memory. She had always liked the fact that he would drive whenever they went anywhere, even if they were in her car. She studied his silhouette against the rain-splattered window and tried to etch it into her mind.

"Ready?"

She nodded and followed him as they dashed through the beginnings of the rainstorm toward her front door.

Her hands shook as she tried to get the key into the lock, a combination of cold and anxiety. He reached out and gently covered her hand with his. She stopped and looked up into his face.

"Meredith."

She stared at him, not wanting to speak. Not trusting her voice.

"Meredith," he repeated, his hand still holding her trembling one. He broke their gaze to look down at her hand. "You're shaking." He looked back up into her face, his eyes a storm of concern and conflict. "We don't have to…"

"Yes." She found her voice to interrupt him. "Yes," she repeated. "We do." She pulled her hand from his and managed to get the key into the lock, pushing the door open and stepping into the foyer. He stepped in behind her and pulled the door closed, shaking out of his coat and throwing it over the stair banister. She dropped her keys and purse on the foyer table and shrugged out of her own coat, placing it on top of his. She stood in front of him and looked up at him.

---

He was determined to remember everything. Every kiss, every breath, every whispered word. Every freckle, every scar, every scent and taste. Everything. For when the morning sun rose, it would begin. The first day of not looking.

---

She gazed up at him as he lifted his hand to her cheek. She sighed as his thumb gently ran over her cheek and she fought to not let her eyes fall closed, determined to study him for as long as she could. Determined to let her eyes roam over him enough tonight to last her forever, so that when the morning sun came, she would be able to look away. For good.

---

He was the first one to break the gaze, leaning in to brush his lips against hers, a whisper of a kiss that brought back a flood of memories of kisses light and hard, quick and long, gentle and rough. Kisses after nights of drinking, hungry and deep, with promises of something more. Kisses in the light of early mornings, sleepy and content. Kisses before work, quick and habitual. Kisses on cheeks, foreheads, hands. He pulled back to study her once more, smiling slightly at the flush of her cheeks. He leaned in to kiss her again, deeper this time, and as he did his heart clenched with realization: she tasted like goodbye.

---

She leaned into his kiss, reveling in the softness of his lips, the roughness of his stubble, the taste of him. She laid everything she was into her kiss, determined to stamp it in his memory, as she knew he was etching himself into hers. As she deepened the kiss, she weighed its familiarity with the slight difference that tinged its edges. As her mouth opened, she was hit with the realization of what was different: in all of the kisses they had shared, this was the first one that didn't taste like a promise.

---


	5. A Track and a Train

**Broken Promises for Broken Hearts**_  
_

_The title for this story is taken from the song "Broken Promises for Broken Hearts" by GW Childs.  
The title for this chapter is taken from the song "A Track and a Train" by the Shout Out Louds._

**Disclaimer:** If they were mine, I'd do all sorts of inappropriate things to them. Particularly to one Patrick Dempsey. Sadly, they are not.

* * *

**Chapter 5: A Track and a Train**

Meredith rolled over to glance at the glowing red numbers on her alarm clock: 3:27. She rolled back to face Derek's still-sleeping form next to her and studied his silhouette in the dim moonlight that peeked through her curtains. His unruly hair curled at his temples and stood out from his head, thanks to a few hours of sleep and a few hours of Meredith running her fingers through it. She barely made out the stubble that peppered his chin and cheeks and the dark eyelashes that laid gently on his cheeks. She listened to the rhythm of his breathing – the only lullaby anyone had ever given her. She shifted her body slightly in his direction, inching closer to the warmth that radiated from him. He had always been like a mini furnace when he slept, and she would always curl into his side, her cold feet between his warm ones, her cold hands balled up against his warm side. But she didn't do that this time. That wasn't part of the deal. As she watched him, he shifted in his sleep and brought a hand up to rub his face. Meredith took one more look at him before rolling away from him and closing her eyes.

---

Derek rubbed his face and opened his eyes, staring at a once-familiar ceiling. He glanced beside him to see Meredith's sleeping form facing away from him. He lifted his head to glance over her shoulder at the clock on her bedside table: 3:34. He rubbed his face once again and rolled to his side, facing her, listening to her deep, even breaths. He lowered his face to within inches of her neck, breathing in the scent of her, now mixed with the scent of him. He lifted his hand to rub her shoulder, but thought better of it and returned his hand to his side. He gazed at her outline for a few more moments before rolling over and retrieving his boxers and jeans from her bedside. He rose from the bed and slid into them quietly, searching the dark room for his sweater. He spied it sticking out from under her bed, and picked it up from the floor, pulling it over his head and running his hands through his hair. He walked to the other side of the bed and looked down at her face, a slight crease in her brow and her lips parted slightly. Her hands were balled into fists, one on the pillow next to her cheek and the other curled into her chest. He leaned down and brushed his lips gently against her forehead before turning and walking from the room.

---

Meredith swung her legs over the side of the bed and shivered as her bare feet came in contact with the cold wood floor. She listened as his footsteps retreated down the hallway and down the staircase, and she strained to hear the click as the front door closed, the sound at once subtle and deafening in its finality. She walked softly across the floor to her window and watched as he walked toward his car, his shoulders hunched against the chill of the dark pre-dawn. She watched as he unlocked his car door and slipped into the driver's seat, and she strained to make out his form through the dark windshield. She thought for a moment that she saw him look up at her through the glass before he started the engine, turned on his headlights and reversed out of her driveway.

---

He closed the door behind him softly and descended the front stairs of the house that had felt more like home than his own for his first months in Seattle. He walked across the damp grass and opened his car door, slipping into the cold leather seat and shivering as a chill touched his spine. He put his key in the ignition and leaned forward for one more glance at the window to the bedroom he had his last night in. He thought for a moment that he saw a figure hiding behind the curtain before he cursed his imagination and turned the key, the engine roaring to life.

---

Meredith stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, trying to gauge from her reflection how she was feeling. A strange idea, perhaps, but pretty much the only one she had at this point. She had gotten out of bed two hours after Derek had driven away, feeling… nothing. She had no idea how she was feeling. She had anticipated feeling relieved, or depressed, or angry, or satisfied, or… something. But she felt nothing. She raised her fingertips to her lips, swollen slightly from his hungry kisses. She stared into her eyes, which should have been underlined with dark circles, given that she had gotten fewer than three hours of sleep, but which looked normal. That was it. She looked normal. She looked like she had looked yesterday morning. And the morning before that. She looked like herself. But inside, she felt nothing. And she had no idea what to do with that. But at the same time, she was grateful for it – it meant that maybe she'd be able to keep her promise to herself, after all.

---

He heard Addison enter the trailer over the spray of the shower.

"Hey," she called out.

"Hey," he called back, surprised at how normal his voice sounded. No guilt. No high-pitched nervousness. No barely repressed bitterness. He sounded normal. Just like he had sounded yesterday. He dipped his head backward and let the hot water run over his head, his shoulders, his back. He almost hadn't wanted to shower her off of him, but he didn't know if Addison would be able to smell her on him the way he could smell her on himself. "I'll be out in a second." He relished the heat of the water and the tranquility of the shower for a few more moments before turning the faucet off and grabbing his towel from over the shower door. He ran it over his head and arms before wrapping it around his waist and emerging from behind the shower door.

"You're up early," his wife said, kicking off her shoes and shaking out of her jacket.

"Yeah," he replied, not offering an explanation. "Actually, I was thinking about going for a walk. You want to go?"

"A walk?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah." He shrugged. "Like the walks we used to take through Central Park on our days off."

She smiled. "I'd love to."

He smiled in return and walked toward the bedroom to get dressed. Maybe he would be able to keep his resolution, after all.

---

"Thanks a lot for ditching me at Joe's last night. Some friend you are." Meredith glared at Cristina over the top of her coffee mug as they sat in the hallway , flipping through charts.

"Sorry." Cristina shrugged. "But I figured you're a big girl. You can take care of yourself."

"That's not the point. You dragged me out of my house – where I was very comfortable, thank you – and proceeded to ditch me! With McDreamy!"

"Well I—wait. Did you just call him McDreamy?"

"What?"

"You did. You just called Derek McDreamy."

Meredith frowned before responding. "Yeah, so? You call him McDreamy."

"Yeah, but me calling him McDreamy is more of an insult. You calling him McDreamy is like… an endearment." She paused, staring intently at Meredith, who avoided her gaze. "Oh, Meredith. What did you do?"

"What? Nothing! What makes you think I did something?"

Cristina's eyes narrowed slightly. "You mean aside from the fact that you're denying it a little too vehemently? I don't know… maybe the burns on your cheeks that, unless you went snowboarding last night, look remarkably like a classic case of beardburn?" Meredith bit her lip and stared at the chart in her lap. "Oh, man. What did you do?"

"It's OK. We have an understanding."

"An understanding?" Cristina was incredulous.

"Yeah. We just… it was a goodbye thing."

"Meredith, goodbye usually entails a handshake, or MAYBE a hug, if you're the touchy-feely type. Goodbye does NOT entail anything that results in beardburn."

"It's OK, Cristina. I'm OK. He's OK. We're OK."

"How did this even happen? You were stone sober when I left you."

"I stayed stone sober. We just… got to talking."

"And talking led to sex… how? I mean, I'm all for you getting yours. A little New Year's celebration? You go girl. But not with a married McDreamy."

Meredith sighed. "You won't understand."

"Probably not. But try me."

"It was my New Year's resolution."

"To sleep with him?"

"No, not to sleep with him. Well, kind of, I guess. No, my resolution was to let him go."

"And you've accomplished that how?"

Meredith looked at her for a moment, weighing how much to share. "I never really got to tell him goodbye, y'know? I mean, one minute, everything was fine, and we were talking about making rules and exchanging keys and leaving toothbrushes over, and the next minute his wife is here and I'm alone. And I… I just never got to really say goodbye. So I decided that I needed to just move on with my life, but I felt like I at least deserved the chance to say goodbye. I mean really say goodbye."

It was Cristina's turn to sigh. "OK. Admittedly, your life did get turned upside down rather quickly. But still… sleeping with him? Was that really a good idea?"

"Look at me," Meredith replied.

"What?"

"Look at me. Do I look like an emotional train wreck?"  
Cristina studied her for a minute and shrugged. "No more than usual."

"Well, thanks. OK. So clearly, I've moved on from the last time I had to let him go. This was just… the official goodbye." She could see from Cristina's expression that she didn't quite buy it. She sighed again. "Just trust me, OK?"

Cristina shrugged. "OK. But I don't care what kind of understanding you have. If I have to drag you out of bed again or hold your hair back while you throw up half a Jose Cuervo bottle again because he—"

"You won't," Meredith interrupted her. "I'm fine."

"OK," Cristina replied, not even attempting to sound like she believed her.

---


	6. Chapped Lips and Things Like Chemistry

**Broken Promises for Broken Hearts**_  
_

_The title for this story is taken from the song "Broken Promises for Broken Hearts" by GW Childs.  
The title for this chapter is taken from the song "Chap Stik, Chapped Lips and Things Like Chemistry" by Relient K._

**Disclaimer:** If they were mine, I'd do all sorts of inappropriate things to them. Particularly to one Patrick Dempsey. Sadly, they are not.

* * *

**Chapter 6: Chap Stik, Chapped Lips and Things Like Chemistry (Relient K)**

She still couldn't shake the numbness. She didn't understand how she could go from being convinced she had found her soul mate to being completely heartbroken and distraught to being… numb. She had meant it when she told Cristina she was fine. She _was _fine. She felt nothing. No guilt. No remorse. No regret. No pain. She also didn't really feel relieved, as she had hoped she would, but she supposed that was to be expected. Having some admittedly mind-blowing sex and knowing that you're not going to have it again was hardly something to rejoice over. Perhaps she had been right – perhaps goodbye had been just what she needed.

---

Derek looked down as he felt Addison slip her fingers through his and turned to look at her face. "This is nice," she said. "We have done this since—" She stopped, clearly uncertain how to finish the statement. A few months ago, he would have finished it for her – snidely – with something like "since you screwed my best friend?" or "since Mark?" But today, it just felt unnecessary.

He nodded and squeezed her fingers. "This is nice."

She smiled, relief evident on her face. "What made you think of it?"

He shrugged. "I just… I'm sorry."

She frowned. "Sorry for what?"

"Just… sorry for everything. I haven't really been trying. I chose you – I chose us – and I haven't really been acting like it. But that's all going to change. I'm going to work on us. I promise. I want us to work, Addie."

"I want us to work too, Derek."

He smiled and leaned in, kissing her gently on the forehead. Maybe saying goodbye had been exactly what he needed to say hello again.

---

Meredith stepped on the elevator to head down to the coffee cart. A 5 a.m. shift after a night of very little sleep had finally caught up to her, and she was starting to drag. She fingered the dollar bills in her pocket, debating between treating herself to a vanilla latte or just opting for the straight-to-the-metabolism boost of a shot of espresso. The elevator dinged as it reached ground level and the doors slid open. She exited and made her way across the foyer toward caffeine central.

"Vanilla latte," she said to the barista as she reached the cart. She leaned against it as he nodded and went to work on preparing her drink. She closed her eyes and rolled her neck, trying to loosen the knots that had taken up residence in her neck and shoulders. She really needed to get to the gym. Or hire a masseuse.

"Here you go," the coffee vendor said, extending the paper cup toward her.

"Thanks," she replied, taking the cup and handing him the bills. "Keep it," she said as he began to rummage for change. He nodded his thanks and she turned to head back into the hospital just in time to see Derek approach the sliding glass doors, briefcase in hand. His eyes locked on hers, and she felt the bottom of her stomach drop. So much for numbness.

---

Derek approached the entrance of the hospital, yawning and cursing himself for spending ninety minutes walking through the park when he could have gotten an hour more of sleep. He debated grabbing a cup of coffee from the vendor, and as his eyes traveled in the direction of the cart, he stopped in his tracks. There, staring back at him, coffee in hand, was Meredith. And all the peace – all the positive thinking and inner calm – just fell to ruin.

---

She lowered her head and forced herself to walk toward him.

---

He watched her approach, and forced himself not to turn and bolt in the opposite direction.

---

"Hi," she offered as she reached him.

"Hey," he returned, as he resumed his walk toward the elevator with her in stride next to him. "What did you get?" he asked, gesturing toward her steaming cup.

"Vanilla latte," she replied.

"Good choice," he offered, to which she nodded. They stood in silence as they waited for the elevator to arrive at ground level. "You been here awhile?" he asked finally, noting that she was already in her scrubs.

"Yeah. 5 a.m. shift."

"Ouch. That must have been rough after—I mean, not having much slee—I mean, after a rough—late—night." He silently chastised himself for tripping over his words like a teenager. Where had the calm Derek gone?

"Yeah," she agreed, opting to ignore his discomfort. "It was rough." Her eyes widened. "The morning, I mean. Getting up early. Not the—not the night."

"Right." He nodded, offering up a silent prayer of thanks as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. "Floor?" he asked as he punched a button.

"Three, please." He hit a second button and they rode the rest of the way in silence until the elevator dinged once again and the doors slid open to reveal the third floor.

"Well… 'bye," she said, as she stepped through the doors and headed toward the nurses' station.

"'Bye," he replied, and punched his floor button again.

---

"I'm not OK," Meredith blurted when she finally tracked Cristina to the counter where she was waiting for lab results.

"Thanks for bringing me a coffee, by the way. What do you mean you're not OK?"

Meredith extended her own cup toward Cristina, who took it and smiled. "I just saw Mc—Derek. He's here."

"Uh, yeah. He works here, too, y'know. You remember… that whole brain-surgeon thing?"

Meredith rolled her eyes in frustration. "I know. I just—I didn't expect to see him right then."

"Well, you were bound to see him sooner or later," Cristina replied, taking a sip of the coffee and grimacing at the sweetness of the vanilla syrup. She handed the cup back to Meredith. "So what happened?"

Meredith shrugged. "Nothing. We rode the elevator together."

"Of course you did."

"Shut up."

"So?" Cristina stared at her, eyebrows raised.

"So what?"

"Did you talk?"

"Barely."

"And?"

"And… it was awkward."

"Shocking."

"Yeah, but I really didn't think it would be. I mean, I was fine this morning."

"Of course you were fine this morning," Cristina replied, extending her hand for the lab results the lab tech was handing her. "Thanks. Of course you were fine," she repeated, turning to face Meredith. "You spent your whole night having what you have told me before is some pretty decent sex. Why wouldn't you be fine?"

"I just… I really thought it had worked. My plan, I mean. This morning, I felt like I'd be able to let him go."

Cristina snorted as she began to walk toward the elevator. Meredith followed, sipping her reclaimed latte. "You really didn't see this coming?"

Meredith shrugged. "At first I figured, what have I got to lose? The man I love picked his wife over me, and I have no one." She punched the elevator button. "So I thought, well, what can it hurt?"

"And it hurt," Cristina finished. It wasn't a question.

"Yeah. I guess it did."

"Did it hurt him?"

Meredith sipped her coffee again. "I don't know." She paused. "I didn't say goodbye."

"Well, that's pretty clear," Cristina replied, opening the folder in her hands and looking down at the lab results.

"No, I don't mean in the figurative sense. I mean this morning. When he left. I was awake when he woke up and got dressed and walked out, but I didn't say goodbye."

"Why not?"

"I thought it would be easier if he just left."

"Hm." For once, Cristina didn't offer her opinion. The doors opened and they both exited. "So what is it about him, anyway? I mean, besides the fact that he's a hot brain surgeon who's clearly pretty good in the sack."

Meredith sighed, turning her cup in her hands as she stopped and leaned against the counter at the empty nurses' station. Cristina stopped beside her and plopped the folder on the counter, flipping through the sheets of paper inside it. Meredith took another sip before responding. "Do you remember intro-level chem?" she asked.

"Uh… as much as I remember any class I took as an undergrad," Cristina replied, frowning at the paper before her.

"OK. Well, do you remember learning all that stuff about atoms and valence? How if an atom's missing some elements and another atom has the ones it's missing, the two can combine and the power increases?"

"Yeah… so? What does this have to do with you and McDreamy?"

Meredith sighed again. "I just… it's weird. How atoms are kind of like people. We find the person who has the things we're missing. Even if we're not sure exactly what they are, somehow we know that this other person fills those holes." She paused. "Something about Derek… he filled the gaps in me that I couldn't fill by myself. And I filled his. Or at least, I think I did. All the things I'm missing on my own… he had them." She looked up from her coffee cup to see Cristina staring at her.

After a moment, Cristina shook her head. "You are so screwed."

"Tell me about it."

---


	7. Ghost of a Good Thing

**Broken Promises for Broken Hearts**_  
_

_The title for this story is taken from the song "Broken Promises for Broken Hearts" by GW Childs.  
The title for this chapter is taken from the song "Ghost of a Good Thing" by Dashboard Confessional._

**Disclaimer:** If they were mine, I'd do all sorts of inappropriate things to them. Particularly to one Patrick Dempsey. Sadly, they are not.

* * *

**Chapter 7: Ghost of a Good Thing**

"Hey."

Meredith turned as the voice came from behind her. "Hey," she replied, slipping her foot out of her running shoe and rubbing the sore arch.

Cristina lowered herself onto the bench beside her, pulling her hair elastic out of her hair and shaking her head so that curls cascaded down around her shoulders. She sighed. "I need booze," she decided aloud before rising and opening the door to her locker.

Meredith nodded. "Booze would be good," she agreed, kicking off her other shoe.

"Did I hear someone say booze?" Izzie appeared from around the lockers. "Because I'm so in." She shrugged into her coat and pulled her hair out of the collar. "Why are we drinking?"

Meredith shrugged. "Why not?"

Izzie looked from Meredith to Cristina, her eyebrows raised slightly in question.

Cristina repeated Meredith's shrug. "Why do you think?"

Izzie glanced at Meredith once more. "Oh. This again. OK. Well, I'm there." She kicked off her scrub pants and slipped into the jeans she retrieved from her locker. "Joe's?"

"Where else?" Cristina slammed her locker and looked to Meredith. "Ready?"

"Yeah," she replied, pulling her sweater over her head and grabbing her purse, slamming her locker door closed and following her friends from the locker room.

---

"Well hello, ladies," Joe greeted them as they claimed three stools at the bar. "What'll it be tonight?"

"The usual," Cristina replied, dumping her purse on the bar and throwing her jacket over her stool.

Joe nodded. "Where's O'Malley?"

"Discharging a few patients," Izzie replied. "He'll be in soon."

Joe nodded again and went to pour the girls' drinks. Izzie turned to Meredith. "So, is this general misery-drinking, or do we have a specific event that we're bemoaning?" Meredith exchanged glances with Cristina, absently shelling a peanut from the bowl that sat on the bar. The action wasn't lost on Izzie. "OK, what was that?"

"What was what?" Meredith asked, only a halfhearted attempt at innocence.

"That look," Izzie replied. "The 'should-we-tell-her' look. Stop doing the Meredith-and-Cristina thing and just include me already. I'm here, drinking with you, more than willing to help you drown your sorrows, so at least tell me what we're trying to drown. And whether or not they swim."

Meredith glanced at Cristina once more, who shrugged. She sighed and dropped the shelled peanut onto the drink napkin as Joe placed their drinks in front of them. "I slept with Derek," she said, lifting her glass to her lips.

Izzie frowned. "I know. I thought you were over that."

Meredith shook her head. "No, I mean again. I slept with Derek again."

Izzie's eyebrows inched upward. "When?"

"New Year's Eve."

"New Year's Eve was last night."

"Yeah. OK. So last night." Meredith shrugged and took another sip of her drink.

"Wow." Izzie took a sip from her own glass.

"Yeah," Meredith and Cristina replied in unison.

"How did that happen?"

"It's kind of a long story," Meredith replied, her tone indicating that it wasn't one she was particularly in the mood to tell. "Basically, it was goodbye sex. But the goodbye part is turning out to be a little harder than I anticipated."

Izzie nodded. "Breakup sex. Yeah, that's never easy."

"You're telling me," Meredith replied, as another bag was dumped onto the bar. She turned to see George shrugging out of his coat. "Hey, George."

"Hey," he replied, claiming the stool next to Izzie. He signaled to Joe, who nodded and grabbed him a bottle from behind the bar. "Discharging sucks." Izzie patted his arm in distracted sympathy. He looked from her face to Meredith's and Cristina's, registering the troubled silence. "Everything OK?"

Izzie nodded and shrugged. "Girl stuff."

He shrugged in return and raised the bottle to his lips. "OK," he said, taking a sip.

As silence descended over the four once again, the bell on the bar door jingled and Joe raised his hand in greeting. "Dr. Burke!" He paused, glancing at Meredith. "And Dr. Shepherd! How's it going?"

Meredith straightened slightly as Burke leaned over Cristina's shoulder, pecking her on the cheek and extending a hand to shake Joe's. She could feel the presence of another body behind her, and she took a sip of her drink before turning her head slightly, catching him in her periphery.

"Double scotch, single malt, please, Joe," he said. She faced forward again, taking another sip of her drink and retrieving a peanut from the bowl. As Joe placed Derek's drink on the bar, she felt his chest against her back as he reached around her to retrieve the glass. The combination of the warmth and the scent assaulted her senses for a moment before the glass was in his hand and he placed some distance between them once again. She took a breath before turning on her stool to face him, careful that her face wore a mask of detachment.

"Hey," he offered.

"Hey."

He took a sip from his glass and glanced at Burke, who took the cue to challenge George to a game of darts.

"Whaddaya say, O'Malley?" Burke dared, inclining his chin in the direction of the dartboard.

"Oh. Uh, sure. Darts. Definitely." George nodded, picking up on the tension and sliding off the barstool, beer bottle in hand. Izzie followed him, after glancing at Meredith and receiving a slight nod of acquiescence.

"Cristina?" Burke nodded toward the dartboard again. "Care to join us?"

"No."

Burke cleared his throat. "Cristina."

Cristina looked from Meredith to Derek. Meredith was frowning at her, and Derek was looking at the glass in his hand, rolling it slightly so that the amber liquid coated the sides.

"What?" Cristina challenged. She turned to Derek. "If I'm not mistaken, my 10-blade has a date with your penis." The words had barely left her mouth when Izzie reappeared, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her toward the dartboard. Meredith could hear her protesting as she was pulled away. Derek watched them retreat for a moment before taking one of the stools beside her.

They sat in silence for a moment before Derek cleared his throat. "I'm sorry about this morning," he offered.

Meredith turned her head toward him slightly. "This morning?"

"That I didn't wake you," he replied. "I wasn't sure – I didn't want to –"

"It's OK," she interrupted him. "You don't have to apologize."

He nodded and took a sip from his glass. They fell once again into an uneasy silence, broken only by the clink of the ice in her glass as she took sips of her drink. After a few moments, he made a halfhearted attempt at a chuckle. "Familiar territory."

"Yeah," she replied, not wanting to relive the memories of the night before. Less than 24 hours earlier, and already it seemed like a world away.

She felt him angle his body toward her slightly, turning on the stool so that he was facing her and resting one elbow on the bar.

"So… how are you?"

She glanced at him. "I'm good. How are you?"

"Good," he replied. He paused for a moment before continuing. "I mean… are you… you know." He fiddled with his watch. "Did it work?"

She glanced at him again, surprised at his boldness. She chewed at the inside of her lip, allowing herself a look into his blue eyes. "Yeah," she said finally. "I think it did." She paused. "Did it work for you?"

He studied her for a moment. "I'm supposed to say yes, right?"

"Derek—"

"No."

She stared at him. "No?"

"No." He paused, rotating the glass between his hands. "Does that help?"

She faced forward again, ripping off small pieces of the damp cocktail napkin, balling them up and flicking them across the bar. "No," she replied, her voice soft.

She thought she heard him sigh as she lifted her glass to her lips once more. She welcomed the burn of the liquor as it made its way down her throat.

"I don't know how to make this easier," he said after a moment.

"Me neither," she replied.

"I don't want you to think this hurts me any less than it hurts you." Meredith turned to face him, allowing herself to look into his eyes once again. She stayed silent, not knowing how to respond to his frank admission. He met her gaze, his apology written across his face. "I don't want you to think that." She nodded and returned her gaze to the glass in front of her. They lapsed into silence before he spoke again. "I told her – I told Addison – that we – you and me – it wasn't a fling. I told her that I – I fell in love with you."

Her eyes flew to his and she stared at him, the mask of impassivity gone. She shook her head slightly and raised her hand between them. "Derek—" Her voice was pleading.

He took her hand in his as he held her gaze. "I know. I'm sorry. But it's the truth. I did. I fell in love with you. And I'm so sorry that I didn't tell you when I should have. When it would have meant so much more. I hate that now it sounds like a consolation prize. I'm sorry about that. But I just – wanted you to know. You said you loved me. In a big way. And I just – I wanted you to know that I felt it, too. It wasn't just you."

Meredith blinked, trying to swallow the sting in the back of her throat that told her tears wouldn't be far behind. She let his words replay for a moment as she stared at him. And as she did, she understood why she hadn't been able to say goodbye. Because regardless of what his words and his kisses told her, his eyes still looked like they were offering her something. They still looked like they held a future. She opened her mouth to speak at the same moment she realized that he was still holding her hand. She dropped her gaze from his face to look at their entwined fingers and suddenly she noticed what she hadn't registered by touch when their hands were clasped together – there, on his third finger, was his wedding ring. Her words died on her tongue as she stared at the gold band on his ring finger, glinting in the dim lights of the bar. Suddenly, for the first time since she had laid eyes on Derek Shepherd in that very same spot all those months ago, she saw him for what he was: a married man.

Even when the words had crossed his lips, even when the words had crossed Addison's lips, she had never really been able to see him as anything other than what he had been to her. She had never been able to reconcile the boyfriend she had slowly fallen for with the married man she heard about after Addison's arrival in Seattle. The two had simply never matched up in her mind as the same man. But now, sitting here, seeing the Derek she had known wearing a wedding band – it suddenly brought it all into a very harsh reality. Derek was married. Really and truly married. She had sudden flashes of Addison slipping the ring on his finger eleven years ago, him slipping a matching one on her finger, the two of them cutting cake, kissing, laughing. She was vaguely aware of him saying her name as she tore her gaze from his hand and looked into his eyes once again. He stared at her, his eyes once again apologetic.

"Meredith?"

She shook her head and pulled her hand from his, returning both of her hands to the glass in front of her. "Nice ring," she offered after a moment. From the corner of her eye, she saw him glance down at his hand. He sighed, taking a sip from his glass and returning it to the bar.

"I made a promise," he said after a moment. It was an apology, an explanation, a goodbye all rolled into one.

She met his eyes once more. When she spoke, her voice was low. "So did I." She grabbed her coat and purse off the stool next to her and walked out of the bar, both relieved and disappointed that he didn't try to stop her.

---


	8. The Pros and Cons of Breathing

**Broken Promises for Broken Hearts**

_The title for this story is taken from the song "Broken Promises for Broken Hearts" by GW Childs.  
The title for this chapter is taken from the song "The Pros and Cons of Breathing" by Fall Out Boy._

**Disclaimer:** If they were mine, I'd do all sorts of inappropriate things to them. Particularly to one Patrick Dempsey. Sadly, they are not.

* * *

**Chapter 8: The Pros and Cons of Breathing**

As Derek watched the door to the bar swing closed behind her, he sighed, turning the glass of scotch around in his hand slowly. He heard Joe clear his throat from the other side of the bar and turned to face him. Joe nodded toward his glass. "I figure you could use a refill." Derek's attempt at a chuckle died in his throat. Joe nodded. "On the house."

Derek nodded his thanks and downed what was left of the drink, pushing the glass across the bar for Joe to refill. He was dimly aware of another person joining him and turned to see George sitting on the next stool. He nodded his acknowledgement of the younger man and turned his gaze forward once again.

It was Joe's voice that broke the silence. "Get you something, O'Malley?"

"No, thanks," George replied.

Derek took a sip of his drink before he realized that the intern was staring at him. He turned to face him again, and quirked an eyebrow in question.

George squinted slightly, seeming to pick through his words, before he cleared his throat to speak.

"I, uh—" He cleared his throat again and shook his head, as if reprimanding himself. When he spoke again, his voice was clear and without its usual hesitation. "I want you to stay away from her."

Derek sighed, and when he spoke, his voice was tired. "Dr. O'Malley–"

"No, I mean it." George straightened slightly, gaining momentum. "I want you to stay away from her. You haven't done her any good since the moment this whole thing started. And lately, you've brought her nothing but pain. I know you want to argue with me, and you want to tell me that I don't know what I'm talking about, but here's the thing – I may not know you, and I may not know everything about your relationship, but I do know her. I know her in a way that you don't, because the way I know Meredith would never let me hurt her the way you have." He paused and his eyes narrowed. "And it certainly wouldn't let me do it more than once." He rose from the barstool without waiting for the older man's reply, dropped enough bills on the counter to pay for his and Meredith's drinks and exited the bar.

Derek faced forward once again in time to see Joe place the bottle of scotch on the bar next to his glass, his face a portrait of sympathy. As the bartender walked away to attend to patrons at the other end of the bar, Derek tapped his hands against his drink, the band on his finger clinking against the glass. He stopped and gazed down at the wedding ring on his finger – the ring that declared his commitment to Addison for the whole world to see. His stomach tightened when he recalled the look on Meredith's face after she had noticed its presence on his finger. He could read on her face what she was thinking: that never had he made such a public – or even private – statement of his devotion to her. He hadn't even made that kind of promise behind closed doors. He tried to tell himself that he had been taking cues from her – that she had been the one who was hesitant to date him in the first place, that she was the one with commitment issues, that it was she who had dictated the pace their relationship had taken. But deep down, he knew he was lying to himself. He had been a coward. He hadn't even been a good enough man to tell her the truth, when a part of him knew that Addison would turn up eventually. She was nothing if not stubborn – he should have known she wouldn't go down without a fight. But he had been happy with Meredith – happy in a way he hadn't been in awhile, and he knew that the minute he started talking about the past, that would change. And despite the things he had done wrong, he knew he couldn't start making promises without talking about the past. Over time, he convinced himself that by not making promises, he wasn't really lying, but it turned out that without making a single promise, he had managed to break her heart all the same.

---

Meredith slapped the alarm clock on her bedside table, silencing the beeping that had woken her from a fitful sleep. It had taken hours for her to fall asleep at all – she had returned from Joe's to the empty house and had gone straight to bed, where she laid awake for hours replaying the events of the night – and the preceding day – in her head. She had ignored first George's timid knock and inquiry as to whether she was OK, and then Izzie's more insistent knocks and pleas for her to open the door. She didn't answer, hoping they would assume she had fallen asleep, and eventually they had both drifted away from her door and left her to her misery.

She kicked back the sheets and comforter and rose, grabbing her robe and heading to the bathroom to shower.

---

"OK, everybody, Happy New Year, glad you all survived the holidays." Bailey clapped her hands and glanced at the faces of her five interns. "Be prepared today, we'll probably be inundated with all the fools who overindulged on New Year's Eve and wrote their problems off as hangovers yesterday. I'm sure they'll be joining us today. Dr. Burke has a coronary artery bypass scheduled for this afternoon and he'll be needing an intern, so—" She was cut off by all five interns thrusting their hands upward and stepping toward her, crowding each other and jostling for position. She sighed and glanced over them. "Yang." She ignored the barely suppressed groans and sighs of disappointment. "Karev, you'll be manning the pit today. Stevens, Grey, O'Malley, make yourselves useful and available on the floor." She dismissed them with a curt nod and walked away to check the board.

"The pit? This freakin' blows." Alex glowered as a smug smile crept over Cristina's face.

"Yeah, have fun with that, Evil Spawn. See you after my—" She cleared her throat. "SURGERY." She snickered as he glared at her and walked away. "So much fun. OK. See you kids later. Have fun with all the hangovers," she said as she left to find Burke.

"I swear, if someone vomits on me this morning, it is going to be SUCH a buzzkill," Izzie said, picking through the charts at the nurse's station.

"And what are you so happy about?" Meredith asked, holding her hands out for a chart.

"It's my resolution. I'm going to be a happier, more relaxed person. I'm going to be positive and upbeat, and move on past all the little, insignificant things that were bringing me down. Case in point," she added, gesturing toward Alex's retreating back.

Meredith and George exchanged looks. "Well, uh, good luck with that," Meredith offered, accepting the chart Izzie extended toward her.

"What about you guys?"

George raised his eyebrows. "Us?"

"Yeah. What are your resolutions?"

He shrugged, glancing at Meredith. "I don't make resolutions."

"Yeah, me neither," Meredith replied, shrugging apologetically.

"You guys are lame. That's what the new year is all about – making a fresh start. Letting go of all the stress from last year." They both stared at her, their faces blank, and she sighed. "OK, fine, be the same old George and Meredith. Don't make resolutions. Whatever." She grabbed a chart and headed toward a bed in search of the patient.

George and Meredith exchanged glances and parted ways, in search of their own patients.

---

"What have you got, Grey?" Bailey entered the room where Meredith was swabbing at a gash on her patient's head.

"Mr. Avery, 42, complaining of a headache and nausea, and has a six-inch scalp lac. He seems somewhat altered, so I'd suggest a head CT and neural consult to rule out a closed-head injury."

Bailey nodded her approval. "OK. Go to it," she directed, leaving to check on the other interns.

Meredith nodded in response, picking up a clean piece of gauze from the tray. She saw her patient flinch slightly as she continued to clean the wound. "I'm almost done here," she assured him, swabbing the blood away. "Do you know how you got this?" He remained silent. She hadn't gotten anything out of him since she began, and his only acknowledgment of her at all had been a slight nod and a grunt when she asked if he were Mr. Avery. The mention of headache and nausea on his chart were all she had to go on, but the scalp lac made it clear that he had fallen or hit his head on something. "You're going to need a few stitches in this, but it's not too deep, so it shouldn't scar much." He was unresponsive, so she turned to the nurse standing behind her. "Page Dr. Shepherd for a consult." The nurse nodded and left to make the call as Meredith returned to swabbing. The patient began to sway slightly as he sat on the edge of the bed, and Meredith held out a gentle hand to steady him, moving from his side to stand directly in front of him, looking down to his face. "Mr. Avery? Are you OK? Are you feeling dizzy?" He didn't answer, staring straight ahead for a moment before suddenly lifting his eyes to meet Meredith's and staring at her intently before he rose from the bed quickly and, in one swift motion, grabbed her around the neck.

Meredith's stunned reaction lasted only a moment before she registered that not only did her patient have her by the throat, but he was slowly tightening his grip and she couldn't breathe – or make a sound.

---

"Derek?" Derek turned to see Addison standing by the counter, gazing at him through her glasses. "Do you have a minute?"

"Actually on my way to a consult," he replied, holding up his pager. "Why? What do you need?"

"Oh, just wanted your opinion on a patient, but it can wait." He nodded and made a move to turn away as she touched him lightly on the arm. "What time do you get off tonight?"

He shrugged. "I have a peripheral nerve reconstruction scheduled for 4:30, but that's it. Why?"

"Well, I was thinking… maybe we could go out for dinner or something. Somewhere nice. Or see a movie. We haven't really… done that in awhile. Gone out."

Derek ran a hand through his hair and focused on reclipping his pager to his coat pocket. He gazed at her for a moment before leaning against the nurse's station counter and folding his arms across his chest. "OK," he said after a moment. "What did you have in mind?"

---

Meredith tried to pull the man's hands away from her throat, but his grip was strong and his thick fingers were clasped around her neck tightly. She stared into his face, her shock and confusion slowly giving way to fear and panic. He stared back at her but didn't seem to be registering her face, his eyes wide and tinged with a panic of his own. She struggled to make a sound, but his thumbs were crushing her windpipe and she couldn't manage anything more than a weak, gagging noise. She could feel herself being lifted slightly, so that her toes were just brushing the floor. The pressure in her throat tightened as she fought for air, gasping and feeling her heart hammer in her chest. She scratched at his hands desperately, trying to inflict enough pain for him to loosen his grip, but his hands remained locked around her neck. She kicked her legs, now in full-blown panic as she began to feel dizzy and spots appeared at the corners of her eyes. She felt her feet come in contact with his shins and she kicked harder, certain that she could inflict enough pain for him to at least flinch, but he was as unresponsive to her fight as he had been to her questions. She continued to thrash helplessly as her lungs burned and her head began to swim. She stared at her patient, bewildered, as her legs slowed and her ability to fight faded.

---

"I don't know. I just—" Addison toyed with her rings absently, turning them on her finger as she looked at her husband. "I thought it would be a nice change to get out of the trailer and go somewhere new. Just the two of us." She paused for a moment before continuing, dropping her voice slightly. "I really liked our walk the other morning. It felt like we were making progress, and – I meant what I said, that I want us to work. So I thought this would be a good step."

He nodded. "OK. Well, what do you want to do? You tell me, Addie."

"OK. Well, how about dinner? We can try that place, Crush, that Richard mentioned."

Derek made a face. "I don't know. I'm not sure that place is really… us."

Addison shrugged. "OK, well, you pick then."

Derek shrugged in return, straightening and stepping back as paramedics wheeled a gurney past them. He watched them pass as he tried to come up with an answer for his wife. As his gaze moved away from the retreating gurney, he glanced through the glass window of one of the exam rooms to see a patient grabbing someone in light blue scrubs. As he squinted, he recognized Meredith's frame and registered the patient's hands around her neck. He abandoned the conversation and bolted toward the room, driving past Addison and shoving another doctor aside as he barreled through the exam room door.

---

The blackness that had started at the edges of her vision crept toward the center of her sight and her own hands weakened against the bigger, stronger hands at her throat. The face of the man before her blurred as the room swam and gave way to darkness.

---

The door to the room crashed open as Derek plowed through it and lunged for the patient, punching him square on the nose. The man's head snapped backward and his grip on Meredith's neck gave way as he raised his hands to his own face and fell onto the bed behind him. As he fell, Derek turned to see Meredith, freed from the man's grasp, her eyes rolled back in her head. He reached for her but her legs crumpled beneath her and she lurched away from him. He dove to catch her but he was too late and missed her by inches as she crashed to the floor, beyond his outstretched arms.

---


	9. Tiny Little Fractures

**Broken Promises for Broken Hearts**

_The title for this story is taken from the song "Broken Promises for Broken Hearts" by GW Childs.  
The title for this chapter is taken from the song "Tiny Little Fractures" by Snow Patrol._

**Disclaimer:** If they were mine, I'd do all sorts of inappropriate things to them. Particularly to one Patrick Dempsey. Sadly, they are not.

* * *

**Chapter 9: Tiny Little Fractures**

"Derek, for God's sake! You call for SECURITY. You get backup. You do NOT cold-cock a patient!" The Chief's hands were on his hips and he was glaring at his head of neurosurgery, who was incredulous.

"He had Meredith by the throat! He was CHOKING her!"

"I understand that, but there are other ways to stop him without breaking his nose."

Derek shook his head. "Look, Chief – I'm sorry. But I wasn't about to try reason with someone who had been choking one of our interns for God knows how long. And what was she doing in there by herself anyway?"

"Her job," Richard replied.

"Where was the nurse?"

The chief folded his arms across his chest. "I'd imagine she was trying to track down the neural consult Dr. Grey had requested. Who, if I'm not mistaken, was conducting an impromptu round of marriage counseling at my nurse's station." Derek bit his tongue as he glared at his mentor, and Richard sighed. "Look, I understand that you've managed to get yourself into a tough situation here. But Derek, you have to control yourself. Inside the walls of this hospital, you are my head of neurosurgery. Everything else takes a back seat. Understood?"

Derek maintained a defiant silence for a moment before responding. "Understood."

"Good." Richard gave a single curt nod. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a hospital to run. Try not to knock out any more patients today, if you can help it."

Derek rolled his eyes at the Chief's back and headed toward the room they had wheeled Meredith into. As he entered, he noted with relief that she was conscious. He also noted, without surprise, that she seemed to be trying to convince the nurse that she was fine, despite the bruise that was already forming around her neck and the trickle of blood down her temple from the gash she had gotten when her head hit the floor. She fell silent when she noticed him and raised the towel she was holding to her own scalp lac. Derek opened his mouth to speak as the door swung open behind him and Alex Karev sauntered into the room.

"So I hear you managed to wind up in a chokehold," he offered by way of a greeting. He shook his head. "Remind me to show you an escape move from my wrestling days – it'll come in handy next time you get strangled by a psycho patient." He wheeled a stool next to her bed and snapped on a pair of gloves. "It's your lucky day… I happen to be flawless when it comes to sutures."

"I don't think so." Both Alex and Meredith turned to look at Derek, who was holding out his hand for the needle Alex had picked up from the tray.

Alex frowned. "Dr. Shepherd?"

"I'm sure you're flawless, Karev. But if you don't mind, I think I'd rather an intern didn't stitch up one of our own."

Alex stared at him for a moment before shrugging and handing the needle over. He rose from the chair and headed toward the door, removing the gloves from his hands. "Your loss," he threw over his shoulder at Meredith as he exited the room.

Derek took the seat beside her bed and snapped on his own pair of gloves, glancing at the suture tray to ensure he had everything he needed.

"You don't have to do this," Meredith said. "Alex really is good at suturing. I think he wants to go into plastics, actually. So suturing is one of his few strong points."

"Meredith?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up." He glanced at her face. "I want your sutures done right, but I also want to check you over. You hit your head pretty hard when you fell."

Meredith decided against arguing with him, leaning back against the pillows. "So why was he choking me, anyway?"

Derek shrugged slightly. "He suffers from schizophrenia. Apparently he went off his meds." He shrugged again. "It happens. His reality was distorted, he saw you as a threat."

"Oh." She fell silent again, wincing slightly as she felt the tug of the sutures.

Derek paused, looking into her face in concern. "Does that hurt?"

"No," she replied. "It just feels tight."

He nodded and focused on his work once again.

She watched him quietly, both grateful for and frustrated by his proximity. She watched his clear blue eyes narrow slightly in concentration as he sewed her skin back together.

Some memories don't live in the mind, but in the body. Something about his nearness made her body react, so that she could remember the warmth of his skin and the feel of his touch in an elemental way that made her want to pull away. She probably would have, if he hadn't been busy repairing the gash in her head.

"OK." He pulled away and removed his gloves, grabbing her chart and writing something on it. She continued to watch him in silence, studying his features and his movements, which were at once so familiar and yet suddenly somehow different. In the aftermath of his breaking her heart, she had forgotten how much she liked him. She had been so consumed by the confusion, pain, and betrayal that she had forgotten how strongly she had felt, and how simple everything had seemed.

He clicked his pen shut and rose, returning the pen to his coat pocket and grabbing a light instead. He placed a hand gently on her forehead and shone the light into her eyes. He nodded slightly and clicked the light off, returning it to his pocket. He placed one hand on her head and lifted the other in front of her face, holding up his index finger. "Follow my finger," he said, and she dropped her gaze from his face to his hand, following the path of his finger from right to left. He nodded again and made another notation on her chart. "OK. You seem OK." He smiled. "No permanent damage." She attempted a smile in return, and he frowned slightly when it failed. "You OK?"

She nodded quickly. "Yeah. Just—" She broke off and shook her head. "Never mind."

"No, tell me," he urged.

She shrugged, glancing around the room. "It's just – no. Nothing. It's stupid."

He nodded. "Feels weird to be the patient, doesn't it?"

She met his eyes once again, equal parts irritation and comfort that he still knew her so well. "Yeah. I'm just… not crazy about hospitals. I know that sounds ridiculous."

He shrugged. "Not really. You'd be surprised at how many doctors don't like hospitals." She gave him a skeptical look and he offered her a reassuring smile. "Just because you like to watch the bullfight doesn't mean you want to be the bull."

She laughed despite herself and winced slightly at the headache that was forming behind her eyes.

"How do you feel?" he asked, nodding toward her stitches.

She straightened, sitting upright and fingered the bandage on her head gently. "Good as new," she replied.

He nodded again. "Good as new," he repeated. He gestured toward her neck. "You're going to have some pretty good bruises."

She nodded in return. They remained in a companionable silence for a moment before she gestured toward the door. "Go. You have patients. I'm fine. Really."

"OK. Well, if you develop a bad headache or any other symptoms, make sure you let me know, OK?"

She nodded again as he returned her chart to the foot of her bed and exited the room, leaning back against the pillows once more. She glanced down at her scrub top, stained with droplets of blood from her head wound, like tiny, angry splashes splattered over her heart. As she touched the spots gently, she sighed. As a doctor, you tended to forget what it was like to be a patient. You began to believe earnestly and wholeheartedly in the power of medicine – in the black and white world of problems and solutions, questions and answers, diseases and diagnoses. But as people, it was hard to forget the truth – that medicine, as amazing as it was, could only heal certain kinds of pain. The rest – well, the rest it couldn't do a damn thing about.

---

"You practically knocked me over, Derek."

"She was being STRANGLED, Addison. Actually strangled. As in, unable to breathe. What did you want me to do – page someone?"

"I understand the realities of the situation, Derek, I'm just saying. Just… if it had—"

He cut her off. "Yes."

She frowned. "Yes, what?"

"You were going to say, if it had been someone other than Meredith."

Addison fell silent, surprised once again by how well Derek seemed to know her when she no longer felt like she knew him at all. He sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. "Yes, I would have pushed you out of the way if it had been someone other than Meredith. It wasn't about her. It was about the situation. OK?" She remained silent. "Look, Addison, we'll talk about it later, all right?" He didn't wait for an answer before walking away.

Addison watched him go without trying to pry anything more from him. What she didn't say, what she didn't think she wanted to say, was that it hadn't been his pushing past her that bothered her. It had been the look on his face as he had brushed by. It hadn't been the concern of an attending or the urgency of a doctor. It had been complete, all-consuming panic – the fear of a man faced with losing what mattered to him most.

---

Derek closed the door behind him and sunk into one of the chairs in the lounge, propping his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. The sudden onset of panic and the subsequent relief had drained him, and while he felt bad for walking away from Addison for a second time, he simply didn't have the energy to have any kind of heavy discussion. In fact, he was tiring of heavy discussions altogether. He heard the door open and turned his head slightly to see who was interrupting his peaceful solitude. George stood in the doorway for a moment before entering the lounge and taking the seat beside him. Derek told himself it would be rude to ignore the intern altogether, so he raised his face from his hands and leaned back in his chair, glancing at the younger man, who cleared his throat.

"I, uh, owe you an apology," George said after a moment. Derek quirked an eyebrow and remained silent. "For last night. At Joe's. I was… rude. To you. I'm sorry about that. It's just…" He tapered off, staring straight ahead and chewing on the inside of his lip.

"You care about her," Derek finished. George nodded. "I care about her, too," he said. "I know that to you and your friends it may not look like it, but I do. I care about her a lot."

"Then why…" George didn't need to finish the question.

"I don't know," Derek replied after a moment. "I don't know why any of this happened. I just – I'm trying to do the right thing. Is it the right thing? I don't know. But I'm trying." He paused and propped his elbow on the armrest, leaning his head against his knuckles. "I didn't mean to hurt her. I hope she knows that." George nodded slightly. "I'm glad she has you. All of you."

George turned to face him and nodded again, rising from the chair and extending a hand toward Derek, who glanced at the hand and shook it.

"Thank you for saving my friend," George said.

"Thank you for being her friend," Derek replied.

They both nodded and George exited, leaving Derek in solitude once again. He glanced down at his hands, at the ring Addison had put on his finger, trying to figure out the sudden onslaught of emotions that had been intensifying since New Year's Eve and trying to decipher how they were to fit into the grand scheme of things. He turned the ring around on his finger absently as his mind danced between Addison and Meredith. The two women his heart and mind warred over. What was his marriage, if it couldn't overcome what he had felt for Meredith? What, if anything, did he have left with either of them? And, most of all, he feared that, between trying to save his marriage and trying to save her life, he may have destroyed them all.

---


	10. One Night is Not Enough

**Broken Promises for Broken Hearts**_  
_

_The title for this story is taken from the song "Broken Promises for Broken Hearts" by GW Childs.  
The title for this chapter is taken from the song "One Night is Not Enough" by Snow Patrol._

**Disclaimer:** If they were mine, I'd do all sorts of inappropriate things to them. Particularly to one Patrick Dempsey. Sadly, they are not.

* * *

**Chapter 10: One Night is Not Enough****  
**

"So I'll see you on Saturday?" Addison asked, hoisting her strap of her carry-on up her shoulder and pushing her sunglasses on top of her head.

"Yep," Derek replied, pulling her wheeled suitcase out of the trunk and extending its handle. "I'll pick you up at the baggage claim." He slammed the trunk closed and pulled the keys from the lock, spinning the keychain on his finger and stuffing his other hand into the pocket of his jeans. "You sure you don't want me to come in with you?"

His wife shook her head and nodded toward the clear blue sky above them. "This is probably one of five days out of the year that it's pretty much guaranteed my flight _won't _be delayed. Go. Your shift starts in half an hour. I'll call you when I get in to JFK."

He nodded. "OK." He leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Safe trip."

"Thanks." She watched him walk around the car and sink into the driver's seat. She stepped back from the curb as he started the engine and watched as he put the car into gear and pulled away from the curb. She grabbed her suitcase handle and wheeled it into the airport behind her, pushing away the vague sense of disappointment at the fact that he hadn't turned around or waved before driving off.

---

"Dr. Shepherd, where's Addison? I've got a woman at 31 weeks with twins who may be going into early labor."

Derek lifted his gaze from the case study he was reading on the computer monitor to see Miranda Bailey gazing at him over the counter. "Her old practice in New York called last night to see if she would fly in for an emergency consult. She took off an hour ago."

Bailey's eyes narrowed. "What, them fancy doctors in New York can't find a neonatal surgeon on their own coast to do a consult?"

Derek shrugged. "Well, the consult will probably end up being a surgery. And they wanted the best."

"Of course they did." She sighed and turned away, mumbling under her breath.

Derek returned his gaze to the screen, found what he was looking for, and swiveled around in the desk chair to see Meredith standing on the opposite side of the counter, filing a chart. "Hey," he offered after a moment.

She turned to face him. "Hey."

"How you feeling today?"

"Great. Much better."

He nodded. "Good. I'm glad to hear it."

She nodded in return and toyed with her fingers – a nervous habit that told her she'd never make a decent poker player. She cleared her throat. "Oh, I uh, don't think I said thank you yesterday. For… well, you know. Saving me." She felt the heat creep up her neck and silently cursed herself, embarrassed at the cliché of her words.

He smiled, opting not to increase her embarrassment by pointing out the flush in her face. "You don't have to thank me. Besides, if I had been quicker to answer my page, you might not have needed help in the first place."

She dismissed his culpability with a quick shake of her head. "It's OK. Call it even?"

He nodded. "Deal."

He watched her walk away, wondering how many more times he could apologize for causing her pain before she would stop listening.

---

Derek stared across the street at the lights glowing in the windows of Joe's bar. He ran his thumb over the worn leather of his briefcase handle and weighed his options. He could go home to an empty trailer, which was only slightly better than going home to a trailer he was sharing with his so-called wife, or he could walk across the street and into the bar, where he knew Meredith would be unwinding with her friends. He had overheard the interns making plans to meet up after their shift, and while he always felt slightly guilty at Meredith's obvious unease whenever he was near, it was overshadowed by his simple desire to be near her. Even if being near each other was nothing more than awkward, it came nowhere near the awkwardness that had grown between Addison and him. And, frankly, the awkwardness with Meredith was tinged with something that made it worth it. He pulled his coat closed around his neck and headed toward the bar.

---

Meredith launched the dart and winced as it landed in the wall about four inches from the dartboard.

"Thank God you're better with a scalpel than you are with a dart," Cristina snickered, stepping up to the line and throwing her own dart, smiling in smug satisfaction as it landed mere millimeters from the center of the board. She turned to Meredith. "Your round. I'll take a Jack and Coke."

Meredith rolled her eyes and headed toward the bar, hesitating when she saw Derek sitting on a stool, watching her approach. She attempted to maintain a steady pace as she neared him, silently cursing the fact that the only opening that wasn't next to him was on the complete opposite side of the bar. Unless she wanted to make it obvious that she was trying to avoid him, she would have to place her order in the vacant space beside him.

"Looks like she beat you pretty soundly," he offered by way of a greeting as she leaned against the bar at his side.

She shrugged. "Darts never was my game," she replied as she tried to catch Joe's eye.

He finished what was left in his glass and returned it to the bar top. "Try flicking your wrist," he suggested, holding up a hand to get Joe's attention. The bartender approached him, his eyebrows raised in question. "One more, and whatever she wants," Derek said.

"Oh, no, it's OK. I owe Cristina a drink – we kind of bet on the game."

"OK." Derek turned back to Joe. "One more and whatever she _and_ Dr. Yang want," he amended.

"You don't have to—"

"You know, usually when I buy a woman a drink, she says 'thank you,'" he interrupted as he faced her, his lips curving into a hint of a smile.

"Oh? And how many women have you been buying drinks for lately? Besides your wife, I mean."

The smile vanished from his face as he faced forward once again, accepting the glass that Joe slid across the bar. "Not many," he replied, raising the replenished glass to his lips.

Meredith sighed as she took the vacant stool beside him. "Sorry."

"No, you have a point."

"Well, maybe. But still."

"What'll it be, Dr. Grey?"

"Shot of Jose and a Jack and Coke," she replied, grateful for his interruption. He nodded and set about filling her order. "So… flicking my wrist?"

Derek met her gaze for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. Flick your wrist when you release it. It'll fly straighter."

"OK. I'll give that a try." She paused, fiddling with the cocktail napkin in front of her. "So you play darts?"

He shrugged. "One of my roommates in college was English, spent a lot of time in pubs as a kid. He taught me how to play." The small smile returned to his face. "Won more than our share of drinks during those years."

This time she offered a smile in return. "Yeah, I'll bet." She took the drinks Joe slid across the bar and rose from her stool. She paused momentarily before extending an invitation. "Want to show me this technique of yours? Cristina's really kicking my ass."

He studied her for a moment before nodding, grabbing his glass, and following her toward the dartboard.

---

"Dammit!" Cristina pounded her fist on the tabletop as Derek and Meredith high-fived.

"Cristina, it's just a game," Burke soothed as she glared at the gloating pair.

She grumbled as she plopped into the chair, draining what was left of her Jack and Coke, glaring at Meredith and Derek, who joined her at the table. Meredith eyed her, amused, as she sipped the Tequila Sunrise she was using as a chaser for the shots that had resulted from dartboard betting. The two women gazed at each other in silence for a few moments before Cristina rolled her eyes. "Fine. My turn. Orders?"

Meredith held up a finger. "Jose." She pointed at Derek and held up another. "Double scotch, single malt."

"How retro," Cristina sneered, leaving the table and heading for the bar.

Burke suppressed a smile as he leaned down to retrieve his wallet from the pocket of his coat, which was draped over the back of a chair. Meredith smiled in approval as he nodded toward Cristina, who was sulking as she tried to catch Joe's eye. He left the pair alone at the table, hoping that paying for Cristina's round of drinks would ease the sting of defeat.

"Will you watch my drink?" Meredith asked after a moment of silence. "I need to pee."

Derek nodded and raised the glass to his nose, sniffing before making a face and returning it to the tabletop. "I should have known."

She frowned as she unhooked her purse from the back of her chair. "What?"

"Tequila," he replied. "I never understood how someone with your frame could spend an evening downing shots – and apparently mixed drinks – of Jose Cuervo and still function."

She shrugged, rising. "You build up a tolerance. I'll be right back."

He nodded and took a sip of his own drink, leaning back in the chair as she made her way toward the back of the bar.

---

She gazed at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. It never ceased to amaze her how you could feel totally sober in the bar, but as soon as you entered a bathroom and tried to adjust to the fluorescent lighting, the edges of things tended to go slightly fuzzy. In college it had been her litmus test; she would periodically go to the bathroom to gauge just how drunk she was getting. Tonight's test told her she was approaching a nice buzz, but that slowing down now would ward off any serious hangover. Or worse, serious embarrassment. She ran her hands through her hair and rummaged in her purse, hoping that a wayward tube of lip gloss might be lurking in its depths. She sighed when all she uncovered were a few loose coins, a hair tie, and a slightly fuzzy Life Saver, minus its wrapper. She glanced at her reflection once more, pinched her pallid cheeks to bring some color to her skin, and pulled open the bathroom door. She stepped out of the bathroom and froze as the door slammed shut behind her. There, leaning against the opposite wall, was Derek. She glanced at the closed door to the men's room and then nodded toward the door behind her. "You could just use the ladies' one." She offered what she hoped was a friendly smile. "I won't tell anyone." He nodded and returned the smile. He said nothing, but she noted that he made no move to enter the women's restroom. She grew uncomfortable under his gaze and her eyes narrowed in question. "What?"

He shook his head. "Nothing." He inclined his chin in the direction of the door behind her. "So it'll be our little secret."

"Our little secret," she repeated, turning away from him and maneuvering her way back to the table.

---

"This… this is ric—red—this is stupid," Cristina waved her hand at the dartboard and at the multitude of glasses that now covered the tabletop. She frowned as she tried to manipulate the words on her tongue, which was growing heavier and less cooperative as the night wore on.

"What?" Meredith finished what was left of her drink and added the empty glass to the collection.

"You can't play dartboards when you're drunk." She hiccupped, as if to prove her point.

After a moment's contemplation, Meredith nodded at her friend's sage advice. "Yep. You're right." She turned to Derek, who eyed her in amusement. "She's right. You can't play dartboards when you're drunk." Derek nodded in silent agreement and Meredith turned to Burke. "She's really smart." Burke mirrored Derek's nod. "No, really. She's really, really smart." She paused, as if a sudden realization had struck her. "Like a doctor! We're all doctors! 'Cause we're all SMART!" She punctuated this declaration by grabbing her empty glass and clinking it against Derek's half-full one. "Here's to the smart, smart doctors!"

"Cheers!" Cristina half-yelled, slamming her glass into Meredith's so hard that the men silently marveled at the fact that the glasses hadn't smashed in their hands.

"OK, I think that's enough 'cheers' for us for the evening," Burke said, extricating the glass from Cristina's hands. She turned to face him, debating whether or not to argue, before smiling and leaning her head against his shoulder and running her finger up his chest. "Let's go… we'll get a cab," he said, stilling her wandering fingers.

Cristina straightened suddenly and pointed toward Meredith. "Wait! Meredith needs a ride, too."

"I got it," Derek said, glancing at Meredith.

Cristina's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, right, McDeem— Mc—" She frowned. "Whatever." She jabbed a finger in his direction. "You're not allowed." Derek raised his eyebrows and glanced at Burke, who took hold of Cristina's arm and attempted to guide her out of her chair. "No! He can't! I haven't chopped his penis off yet!"

Burke dropped her arm and stared at her, mouth open slightly, before switching his focus to Derek, who waved his hand and shook his head. Burke nodded and took Cristina's arm again, guiding her toward the door. She pulled away once more and leaned in toward Meredith, her face mere inches from her friend's nose. "Juss say NO," she whispered. "NO," she repeated, louder, straightening and jabbing a finger in Derek's face.

He held up his hands to convey his innocence and smiled as Burke escorted Cristina out of the bar. He turned to face Meredith, who was gazing at their retreating backs, a small smile on her lips. "I take it back," he said, smiling as she turned to face him.

"What?"

"What I said about you and Jose," he replied, gesturing toward the empty glasses on the table. "You don't hold your liquor as well as I thought."

"Yeah, well—" She pointed at his glass. "You've been nursing that for like a half an hour." She stopped and giggled to herself. "Nursing. You're a nurse."

"Your point?"

She shrugged. "Juss sayin'."

He chuckled. "OK. Let's get you home." He rose, her coat in his hands, and made a move to help her into it. She rose, swaying only slightly, and faced him for a moment before taking her coat from his hands.

"I can do it," she said, shrugging into the coat and pulling her hair from its collar.

He nodded. "OK," he said, placing a hand on the small of her back and guiding her out of the bar and into the cold.

---

Derek stood beside his car, holding the passenger door open for Meredith, who stood a few feet away.

She gazed at him, standing by the open door, and she was hit by a memory: Derek opening the door for her after she had waited in the rain with a bottle of wine and invited him to watch the sun rise over the ferry boats. The sudden memory and its vividness brought a minor amount of clarity to her booze-addled brain, and she reconsidered for a moment.

He noted her hesitation. "C'mon. You can leave your car here and get a ride with George or Izzie in the morning."

She said nothing and stood in the cold for a few more moments before approaching him and sliding into the passenger seat. She pulled her coat inside as he gently slammed the door shut and walked around the car. She leaned across to open his door for him the way she always had, but caught herself at the last minute and leaned back against the cool leather of her headrest. If he noticed, he said nothing as he opened the door and slid into the driver's seat, turning the key in the ignition.

"Home, James," she murmured as her eyes fell closed and she prayed that the combination of liquor and motion wouldn't turn her stomach.

He glanced at her. "Home," he echoed softly, putting the car in reverse and backing out of the hospital parking lot.

---

"Meredith. Meredith, we're here." She was dimly aware of him brushing her hair off her face as he unbuckled her seat belt and gently lifted her ankles and swiveled her in the seat so that her feet met the concrete of the driveway. "Mer."

She opened her eyes, relieved that the 20-minute drive from the hospital and her nap had taken the edge off her buzz somewhat. She looked up to where he stood, holding his hand out to her. She took it, pulling the lapels of her coat around her frame as she rose from the car, making every effort not to sway. He slammed the door closed behind her and guided her up the driveway and up the porch steps, where he reached out and opened the front door, smiling to himself at the realization that they still didn't lock the door until all three of them were home. Not that it had anything to do with him, but he was thankful that there were things that hadn't changed.

He nudged the door open as he guided Meredith inside, closing it behind them and taking hold of her coat to help her out of it. There was a question in her eyes as he moved to stand in front of her, but she opted not to voice it as he took hold of her elbow and guided her to the kitchen.

"Where are we going?"

"We need to get something in your stomach," he replied.

She shook her head. "Derek, honestly, I just want to go to bed. And you shouldn't even be here." She paused before speaking again, her voice slightly harder. "I'm sure Addison will be wondering where you are."

"Addison's out of town. And you need some coffee and something to eat." He guided her to a chair at the kitchen table and started the coffee pot before going to the fridge and surveying its contents. "Wow. You guys don't exactly have a stocked fridge." She shrugged as he grabbed the milk and turned and surveyed the counters. "You do, however, have an extraordinary amount of baked goods."

She shrugged again. "Izzie's an emotional baker. Or something."

He nodded and grabbed a muffin from beneath a layer of saran wrap and placed it on the table in front of her. He grabbed a mug from the cabinet and poured the coffee, adding milk and placing it beside the snack before sinking into the chair beside her.

She sighed. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I'm planning on asking you to scrub in on a bilateral cingulotomy tomorrow, and I don't want you hung over. So get to it."

Meredith fell silent and sipped the coffee, wrapping her hands around the mug to warm them. "So where is she?"

He leaned his elbow on the table and rested his temple on his fist, watching her pick at the muffin. "New York." He noted the way she tensed slightly and added, "On a consult. She'll be back this weekend."

She nodded and tried to swallow around the chunk of baked goods that suddenly tasted more like cardboard than an Izzie Stevens delicacy. For a split second, the mention of New York brought flashes of divorce papers and Derek back in her arms, but his clarification erased them as quickly as they had come. She pushed the muffin away and took another sip of the coffee, realizing as she swallowed that he had remembered how much milk she liked, and the fact that she never took sugar. She met his eyes, trying not to feel anything at the small, familiar smile that played on his lips. How many times had they sat in this kitchen, drinking coffee and snacking, talking about everything and nothing? How many times had she focused on a newspaper, or a textbook, or something other than his face? How many of those small smiles had she missed? She cleared her throat and moved her gaze from his face to the steaming mug.

"So is that why you're here? Because your wife is in New York, and might be hanging out with your ex-best friend?" She was immediately sorry for the words, although the resentment helped her reestablish a distance between them. The buffer space that she so desperately needed.

She could hear in his voice that the smile was gone. "No."

"Then why?" she challenged, taking a small sip.

He was silent for so long she wondered if he was going to answer her at all. She chanced a glance at his face. "It wasn't enough," he said, his voice little more than an apologetic sigh.

"What?" she asked, feigning confusion.

"New Year's. I told you – it didn't work. It wasn't enough."

"So… what? You drove me home hoping to get lucky?"

He sighed. "No."

"Then what?"

He was silent for a moment before he shrugged. "I don't know."

It was her turn to sigh. "Derek, I know. I get it. You said it all. You're trying to make your marriage work, trying to be the good guy." She paused, and tried to make her voice gentle. "But you're trying to be the good guy to her." He met her gaze and frowned, confusion in his clear blue eyes. She sighed. "You can only really be the 'good guy' to one of us, because by definition, being the 'good guy' means not hurting someone. When you made your choice, you chose who you were going to be the 'good guy' for. And it was her. Not me."

"I'm sorry," he said, and her chest tightened at the dejected tone of his voice. He dragged his eyes up to meet hers, at once pleading and apologizing. "I don't know what to say. I don't have any answers. I don't have anything more to give you than I had last time. I just—I just need you." She remained silent, wanting him to stop almost as much as she wanted him to keep talking. "I don't know anything else. I just – need you. I miss you. I miss just being around you. It's not about the sex, it's just about – us. I miss us. I miss what we had. Don't you?"

"Of course I do," she replied, her voice neutral. "But I'm not the one who chose something else. Someone else."

"I'm sorry. I know you're probably sick of hearing it, but I am. I'm sorry that I wasn't totally honest with you. I'm sorry that she showed up here. I'm sorry that I opted to work on my marriage. But most of all…" He faltered, searching her face for some indication that his words were going in. "Most of all, I'm sorry that she's not enough. I'm sorry that one night with you… one night will never be enough. And the nights we had before she came will never be enough, either."

Meredith felt her throat tighten, knowing that she was in dangerous territory. She met his eyes, blue meeting blue, a question in hers and no answers in his. She shook her head, almost imperceptibly, as she raked her teeth across her bottom lip. "This isn't going to make things any easier," she whispered.

"But they can't get much harder," he replied, leaning in toward her. His lips met hers, at first tentative and then more boldly when she didn't pull away. He opened his mouth slightly, lifting his hands to cradle her head as she sighed into his kiss. She let it continue for a few moments before she brought her hands up between them and gently pushed him away.

"Mer—" She looked at his face, her chest tightening at the mix of uncertainty and vulnerability painted across his features.

She weighed the possibilities in her mind for a moment before a small smile curved her lips. "Now who's taking advantage?"

He met her smile, relief plainly displayed on his face as he captured her lips with none of the earlier hesitation and deepened the kiss, running the tip of his tongue along her lips. She opened her mouth, granting him access as she pushed all thoughts of Addison, New Year's resolutions, and divorce papers from her mind. After all, with all the promises she had broken to herself, and all the promises that had been broken between them, what was one more?

She sighed as he ran kisses down the side of her neck.

One more kiss, one more night, one more broken promise. But from now on, she would be the one doing the breaking.

---


	11. Change You or Change Me

**Broken Promises for Broken Hearts**

_The title for this story is taken from the song "Broken Promises for Broken Hearts" by GW Childs._

_The title for this chapter is taken from the song "Change You or Change Me" by Fabolous._

**Disclaimer: **If they were mine, I'd do all sorts of inappropriate things to them. Particularly to one Patrick Dempsey. Sadly, they are not.

* * *

**Chapter 11: Change You or Change Me (Fabolous)**

Derek squinted as he opened his eyes, registering that he was in bed alone.

And not his bed.

He searched the darkness and noticed Meredith sitting on a chair by the window, gazing at him intently.

"Mer?" He rubbed his hand over his face and glanced at the bedside clock. 3:12. He had only been asleep for two hours. It had been gone midnight when they had fallen exhausted into the sheets and curled around each other to sleep. He wondered briefly how she had extricated herself from his grasp without waking him.

He didn't know how many times she had wondered the same thing: how he'd slipped through her fingers before she had the chance to realize it.

"Mer?" he asked again and he heard her take a breath.

"You have been wrecking my plans," she said after a moment, her eyes dropping to the afghan blanket she had wrapped around her and her fingers finding the fringe. Her voice was soft, but resolved. "I had all sorts of plans before you came along. I had plans not to get seriously involved with anyone until I was done with my residency. Not to get distracted. And then, you happened. And so I reevaluated and started making all new plans. Ridiculous sunsets-over-ferry-boats, kisses-in-the-rain, sleeping-late-on-Sunday, slow-dances-in-the-kitchen kind of plans. Happily-ever-after plans. But you wrecked those, too." She paused. "Then, Addison came. And my plans became to just get through the days and forget about the way I felt when I had you. To move on with my life, keep on breathing in and out and go back to the person I was before you came along. I planned on forgetting how I had actually been happy. But you wrecked those, too, because you won't let me be."

"Meredith—"

"But I'm not going to let you take all the blame. Yes, you're married. And I'm tired of being the other woman. It's exhausting, being so in love with a man who goes home to his wife every night while I go home to an empty bed. It's exhausting." She paused. "But I'm not going to tell you I can't do it anymore. I should tell you it's over, I can't be the other woman, we can't let this happen again… but I'm not. I'm not going to act like it's entirely your fault, either, because it's not. We're both adults, we both made a decision. So I'm not going to let you take all the blame. And I'm not going to do the cliché thing and say 'this has to stop happening.' Because the truth? I can't help myself. And, clearly, neither can you." She swallowed, and lifted her eyes to meet his. "But I should warn you – the Meredith who's willing to have an affair with a married man isn't the Meredith you claim to have fallen in love with. She's different. Before you, I never would have let myself knowingly get involved with a married man. But then again, what happened with us – it's changed me a little bit. But now, you have to make a decision. You have to decide if your need to keep doing what we're doing is worth the possibility that you could change who I am. You have to choose whether or not keeping me on the side is worth the possibility that, by the end of this, I might not be the person you fell in love with." She pinned him with her eyes. "You have a decision to make."

She rose from the chair and disappeared into the hallway. He heard the bathroom door click shut and understood it for what it was: his cue to leave.

He rose from the bed and grabbed his boxers and jeans from where they lay discarded by the bed. He slid them up his legs and glanced around the room, locating his sweater just inside the door. He picked it up and pulled it on, looking back at Meredith's bed. He glimpsed the condom wrapper on her nightstand and stared at it for a moment, the only visual reminder, apart from the disheveled sheets, of what had transpired mere hours before. In a few strides he was across the room, burying the wrapper in his pocket. Something told him she wouldn't want any visual reminders. He exited the room and hesitated outside the bathroom door for a moment, but all that came from within was silence. He sighed and descended the stairs, pulling the door closed behind him and heading down her front steps and into the cold, pre-dawn morning once again.

---

For once, he wished Addison were home. The trailer, small as it was, was almost engulfing in its emptiness. Meredith's words rang in his ears and he yearned for any other sound besides the sound of his own pacing. He would even prefer the discomfort and forced geniality he had been sharing with his wife to this empty, heavy silence.

He had expected her to plead with him to leave Addison. Of course, she had done that before, and he had turned her down. But he almost expected her to keep asking. Or, at least, to keep hoping that he would. But her words to him in the darkness had shocked him. She had given up hope that he would come back to her. She had even given up hope that he would leave his wife. She had stopped hoping that they would find their way back to each other, to what they had once had, and instead, she would settle for being his mistress. The realization filled him with an ache even more intense than the one he'd grown accustomed to living with. She said that his decision could change her; by her making the suggestion, he knew she had already changed. And he blamed himself for that.

He mentally added it to the list he had been keeping – the list of ways he had managed to break the woman he loved.

---

"Dr. Shepherd?"

Derek lifted his eyes to see Alex Karev lowering himself onto a stool a few places down from where he was sitting. He nodded in response. "Karev."

"Dude. What happened to you?"

Derek shook his head and took a sip of the drink Joe had placed before him. "Just… long day." The younger man nodded and held up a finger in Joe's direction. Derek glanced around the bar. "I don't see your fellow interns here tonight." Alex shrugged and Derek frowned slightly. "Yeah, what's up with that?"

Alex's brow creased. "With what?"

"You and the other interns. They're all… buddy-buddy, and you're… well, you're here."

The intern shrugged once again. "I work better alone."

Derek nodded and turned back to his drink. "I can appreciate that."

Alex nodded and slid down the bar so that he was only one stool away. "So you should know, since I'm not thick as thieves with the other four, you can tell me stuff and I won't give her the play-by-play."

"Give who the play-by-play?"

Alex chuckled. "Dude. Seriously." He stared at Derek and shrugged. "OK. I was giving you the chance to vent, but if you'd rather play dumb…" Derek remained silent and took a sip of his drink. "I just figured maybe the hot mistress and the hot wife had addled your brain and maybe you could use a guy to talk to. A guy who doesn't want to chop your nuts off, like Meredith's _other _male friend."

This time, it was Derek who chuckled. "Yeah, he's not a big fan of mine."

"Yeah, well, he's kind of in love with your girlfriend. And as long as she's hung up on you, wife or no wife, you're not exactly going to be winning any points with him." He shrugged. "But I wouldn't worry about it. Even you could kick his ass."

Derek nodded. "I kind of got that impression." He glanced at Alex. "That he liked Meredith, I mean. Not that I could kick his ass."

Alex smirked. "Well just so you know, you could."

"Good to know."

They lapsed into silence as Joe placed a cold beer bottle on the bar in front of Alex and left to attend to his other patrons.

"I don't know how to make it right with her," he admitted after a moment.

Alex raised the beer bottle to his lips, sighing in appreciation as the cold amber liquid slid down his throat, and shrugged. "You can't," he said, wiping his upper lip. "You screwed up. Sometimes you screw up, and you have to accept the fact that you can't make it right." Derek glanced at him, his surprise showing on his face, and Alex laughed. "You expected me to tell you to leave your wife, right?"

Derek squinted as he ran his finger around the lip of his glass. "I'm becoming accustomed to people not reacting the way I expect them to," he replied, raising the glass and taking another sip as Meredith's challenge flashed through his mind.

"Well, I figured if that were really an option, you wouldn't be sitting here looking like you just got diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor."

Derek sighed. "I want her to be OK. I know I screwed up, I know I hurt her, I know I did about ten million things wrong and she's paying for every single one of them. But that doesn't mean I don't love her, and that I don't want her to be OK."

Alex nodded. "She's special. Meredith." Derek glanced at him, frowning slightly, and the younger man shrugged. "She's as messed up as the rest of us, but somehow she makes everyone feel normal. Gives us hope that things might have a chance in hell of turning out OK. I wouldn't go so far as to call her an optimist, but she has a gift of making the underdog feel like he's got a shot." He took another sip of his beer before finishing. "I always liked people like that."

Derek nodded. "She is special," he agreed.

"And she will be OK," Alex added. Derek nodded again and Alex glanced at him. "Was it hard?"

"What?"

"Choosing."

Derek's eyes dropped to the glass in front of him, and Alex knew the answer before he spoke it. "It was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. And it hurt more than walking in on my wife and my best friend in bed together."

Alex whistled. "That's rough." Derek nodded. "So how did you? Choose, I mean."

Derek was silent for so long that Alex thought he wasn't going to answer. When he finally spoke, he sounded far away. "One of the things that I loved about Meredith, right from the get-go, was that she was a fighter. In all the good ways. She was feisty, and resilient. And much tougher than she gives herself credit for. She was determined to be hopeful, even though she had baggage. And she was young, not in the lecherous, cradle-robbing kind of way but in the kind of way that made me see things through her eyes. Like in her first surgery, I watched her watching, and it was like I was reliving my first one. And I liked who I got to be with her, and I liked that Meredith, who never entrusted herself to anyone, let me in. She let me take care of her. Let herself be vulnerable and count on me for things. And she'd gotten used to taking care of herself and being on her own, so I knew that that was big." He paused, and when he continued, his voice was soft. "And then, the moment Addison showed up, that was gone. I saw in her eyes that in that moment, I had taken all of that away. And something told me that even if I divorced my wife and apologized every day and spent the next fifty years of my life making it up to her, she would still hold me at an arm's length. And Meredith deserves better than an arm's length." He sighed. "So I decided to stay with Addison. I was hoping that, as badly as I had hurt Meredith, she could move past it and find someone else that she was willing to let in the way she let me in. I loved her enough to want her to have that again. Addison and I… I knew that we would never be as happy as Meredith and I could have been. But we had both done things to hurt each other, and we had a past, and I thought it would be enough for me. But I wanted more for Meredith." He shrugged. "So that's why."

Alex nodded. "Have you said any of that to her?"

Derek shook his head.

"Yeah. Don't. You know, unless you're going to be leaving your wife. Because that's the kind of speech that might give her false hope. Not to mention the kind of speech that probably earned you that gay nickname."

Despite himself, Derek chuckled. "Thanks for the advice."

Alex nodded and finished his beer, holding up his hand for Joe and pointing at his and Derek's drinks. "I think we need another round."

As Derek sat cradling his empty glass while Alex placed their order, he thought of what he had said. That Meredith was special. That she was hopeful. And he realized, deep inside him, in the kind of realization that comes so sharply that it hurts – he realized he could never do something to change who Meredith was.

Even if it meant breaking his own heart.

---


	12. Friend is a Four Letter Word

**Broken Promises for Broken Hearts**

_The title for this story is taken from the song "Broken Promises for Broken Hearts" by GW Childs._

_The title for this chapter is taken from the song "Friend is a Four-Letter Word" by Cake._

**Disclaimer: **If they were mine, I'd do all sorts of inappropriate things to them. Particularly to one Patrick Dempsey. Sadly, they are not.

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews; they motivate me to keep writing. Happy reading.**

* * *

**Chapter 12: Friend is a Four-Letter Word **

"Hey."

Meredith glanced up to see Derek poking his head around the corner of the lockers. "Hey," she replied.

"You heading out?"

She nodded. "Yeah. You?"

"Yeah." He paused, toying with the handle of his briefcase. "Anywhere important?"

She shrugged. "Joe's with the guys. You?"

He shook his head. "Just home. Do you have time for a cup of coffee before you head to Joe's? I thought we could talk."

She eyed him for a moment before nodding. "Sure. Let me just tell them to go on without me. I'll meet you in the lobby, OK?"

He nodded. "OK."

She watched him walk out of the locker room and took a deep breath. "Here we go," she said to no one in particular, grabbing her purse and keys from her locker and slamming the door shut.

---

Meredith didn't know where her ultimatum had come from. She didn't want to be his "other woman," and she didn't want to stop what they had been doing since New Year's Eve. But she couldn't exist in limbo. As she watched Derek placing their order at the counter from her table by the window, she felt her stomach doing flip-flops. She had given him two crappy options. She wasn't sure which one she wanted him to choose. She wasn't sure she wanted him to choose at all.

---

He stood by the register waiting for their coffees to be made, fingering a coin in the depth of his pocket as he tried to prepare his speech in his mind. For the first time in a long time, he couldn't figure out what Meredith was thinking. She had given him two choices – two choices he was pretty sure she didn't care for. "Double-tall latte and a grande nonfat mocha?" He nodded to the barista and picked up the two cups, turning and walking toward the table she was holding. She smiled, and he felt his chest tighten.

---

"That OK?" he asked as she took a small sip of her drink.

She nodded. "Just hot." He nodded in return and slowly stirred his own coffee. "So," she said after a few moments of awkward silence. He glanced at her and she raised her eyebrows expectantly.

He took a breath and put his stirrer down, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. He glanced up into her waiting face and attempted a small smile. "Meredith, when I told you I loved you, I meant it. And again, I'm sorry that I didn't say it before, when it would have actually meant something. But I need you to know that." He paused and took a breath. When he continued, his voice was soft. "And because that's true, I would never want to do anything to change you. At least, not any more than I've already changed you."

He noted without comment that she leaned away from him slightly. She nodded, almost imperceptibly. "Oh."

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He searched her eyes for a moment before speaking again. "Meredith, I'll do whatever you want. I understand that you didn't choose any of this – that we're in this mess now because of me, my decisions and my stupidity. And I'm sorry. Again, and a hundred more times." He paused. "But I would really, really like it if we could be friends, because I can't imagine my life without you in it. Even if it's not – even if it's just friendship. But I'll understand if that's too complicated or if you don't want that. And if that's the case, then I'll give you space… I'll leave you alone at the hospital. Be strictly professional. I'll stop going to Joe's, stop bugging you. I'll stop everything, if that's what you want." He shrugged, defeated. "You just have to tell me."

She nodded, swallowing the lump that had risen in her throat and refocusing her attention on the coffee cup in front of her. After a few moments, she glanced up at him once again. "I think I need some time to get used to that idea."

He nodded. "OK. Whatever you need. I understand."

She gazed at him for a moment before rising from the table and picking up her cup. "Thank you for the coffee," she said.

"You're welcome," he replied.

She offered him a small smile and turned and walked out.

---

"Where are the girls?"

Alex glanced at Meredith from the corner of his eye as he took a swig from the bottle in his hand. "Three-car pileup came in just as we were clocking out. They stayed to help."

"And you just let them have it? All those bleeding, injured patients? Potential surgeries?"

He shrugged. "I was already showered and on my way out. I figure there's plenty of time to save the world tomorrow." She nodded and took the stool beside him, dumping her coat and purse on the vacant stool beside that. "What're you drinking?" he asked.

"Bourbon," she said, and he raised an eyebrow. She challenged him with a glare. "What?"

He shook his head. "Just surprised. You've built quite the reputation as a tequila girl."

"Yeah, well, I'm turning over a new leaf. Tequila hasn't been serving me too well, so I figure maybe I'm a bourbon girl."

He shrugged. "OK. Joe!" He nodded toward the bartender. "Dr. Grey would like a bourbon." He glanced at her and smirked. "Make it a bourbon with a water back."

Joe nodded and glanced at Meredith. "No tequila tonight?"

She shook her head. "Broadening my horizons, Joe. Trying new things."

"'Atta girl," he replied, grabbing a bottle and a glass from behind the bar.

"So instead of opting for a less tough drink, you opt for an equally dangerous one." He smirked. "Rough day?"

Meredith sighed and glanced at him, giving him the impression that she was sizing him up. Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Your life sucks, right?"

He chuckled. "Oh yeah."

She nodded. "OK, then." She took a deep breath, turning her glass in her hands. Alex waited, giving her time to find the words. Finally, she spoke, her voice low. "He didn't want me."

Alex paused, bottle halfway to his lips. "What?"

She turned to face him, and he was hit by the fact that, for once, Meredith's eyes weren't trying to hide anything. "He didn't want me," she repeated. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. "I offered myself to him on a purely sexual basis. I told him he could stay with his wife _and _have me on the side." She shook her head and her eyes dropped to stare at the bar. "He walked away."

"Mer." He placed his hand on top of hers. "Meredith, look at me." She lifted her eyes to meet his, surprised by the gentleness of his voice, and he sighed. "OK, let me ask you a question." His eyes bore into hers. "Do you think he loved you?"

She bit her lip and thought for a moment before nodding.

Alex nodded in response. "OK. Well, let's reverse the roles for a second. Would you let yourself take advantage of him – of the man you loved – if the roles were reversed?"

She frowned. "What?"

He sighed again. "Look, I get that he made some less-than-stellar decisions. But he's not a bad guy. And apparently, despite those decisions, he did love you." He shrugged. "I just can't believe that it was a matter of him not wanting you. I find it much more likely that he thought he was doing the right thing." He gazed at her. "So I'm just saying… if things were the other way around, and it was you who was married and for whatever reason you couldn't end it… would you ever let Derek settle for second best? Would you let him be taken advantage of like that?"

Meredith's frown softened and was replaced by something akin to misery. "No."

Alex nodded. "That's what I thought." He sighed again. "To love someone means to keep opening yourself up to the necessary pain. That's what love is. You hurt each other, you let each other, you move on. That's love. And if you love him, or loved him, you have to understand that because he loves you, he's walking away." He shrugged. "It's not Hollywood, but there you go."

She glanced at him as she sipped her drink. "So how is it, if you're like the relationship Buddha, that you're sitting here at a bar alone and not setting an example for us poor lost lemmings on how to have happy, fulfilling relationships?"

He snorted and shrugged. "Maybe I'm just talking out of my ass."

She smirked. "Or maybe you're a big talker."

They were interrupted by Cristina and Izzie joining them at the bar.

"_Seven _car crash victims and not one surgical. What a waste of time." Cristina threw her purse on the counter and unceremoniously dropped onto the stool next to Meredith.

"How is helping patients a waste of time?" Izzie took the stool next to Alex and shrugged out of her coat.

Cristina rolled her eyes and glanced at Meredith. "So what are we talking about?"

"Alex was just giving me insight into the complex world of relationships."

Izzie snorted. "Yeah, and I'm a rocket science whiz kid."

Alex remained silent and sipped his beer, only winking at Meredith when she glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

---

"Good morning, Dr. Grey."

Meredith turned as she stood waiting for the elevator and forced herself to smile when she faced Derek waiting behind her. "Morning." She faced forward once again and watched the numbers above the elevator blink. She could hear him typing on his SideKick behind her.

"Fun night at Joe's last night?"

She shrugged. "The usual."

"Ah." She could hear the smile in his voice. "So I guess Jose was involved."

The elevator doors slid open and he followed her onto the car. She glanced at him before facing forward once again. "Actually, no, Jose was not involved."

"Oh?"

She glanced at him again, noting the all-too-familiar mischievous quirk of the eyebrow. "Bourbon was involved."

This time, both of his eyebrows were raised. "Bourbon?"

"Trying new things," she replied. "Turning over a new leaf."

He nodded. "Fair enough."

They rode in silence for a few minutes before she sighed. "A new leaf on which I never turn down an offer of friendship." He turned his body slightly so he was facing her. She mirrored his posture, facing him in return. "I feel the same way. About not having you in my life at all. Even though I'm pretty sure it _will _be complicated…" She trailed off and shrugged. "I'd like to give it a try."

He grinned, and she felt her heart seize. She wondered how long they would have to be friends before that would stop happening.

"Friends."

"Friends," she repeated. "Just don't invite me to any dinner parties with your wife."

He chuckled. "Deal." She smiled. "So – friend – want to do something friendly tonight?"

She pinned him with a look and smirked. "Well, me and my other _friends _are going to Joe's. By way of a change. You're welcome to join us."

He nodded. "I'll be there."

She nodded in return. "OK. See ya, then."

"See ya."

The doors slid open and he watched her step off the elevator. He wondered how long their friendship would go before he would stop feeling like he wanted to kiss her goodbye.

---

"OK. So, I have a proposition for you." Izzie shelled a peanut from the bowl on the bar in front of them as Meredith took a sip of her drink.

"OK."

"OK. There's this guy I think would be perfect for you. Or, at least, a perfect post-McDreamy rebound."

"Izzie—"

"He's smart. We did our undergrad together, and he just moved back into town. He's a teacher. And he's totally hot."

"Iz—"

"You don't have to marry him. Just… y'know. Have some fun."

"And what, dating some random guy is the answer? Then what happens when it doesn't work out? I'm right back here where I started. Hurt, depressed, miserable, borderline suicidal… all because of some guy." She shook her head. "I don't want to do it anymore. I want to be enough all on my own. I want to just… be me. I want to work on figuring out who I am without needing some guy to fill the void."

Izzie wrinkled her nose. "Really?"

Meredith sighed. "Iz, my future has never been made out of a man. I never wanted the husband, the babies, the cooking and cleaning… that's just not me. I just… I want to be me. I want to learn how to be enough all by myself. Once I figure that out, then you can fix me up."

Izzie shrugged. "OK. But he's really cute. And, uh, standing over there." She pointed toward the doorway, where a tall man with light brown hair and a leather jacket was surveying the bar. He spotted Izzie sitting at the bar and began making his way toward her.

"Izzie," Meredith hissed, grabbing her friend's arm. Izzie yelped in protest as Meredith's bony fingers dug into her bicep. "What are you _doing_? I just said I don't want to be set up."

"I _know_, I _heard _you." Izzie turned to her friend with a smile. "Hey, Jeff. Thanks for coming. This is Meredith." She gestured in her friend's direction. "But I was misinformed, and she's not interested in blind dates at this point in time. But let me buy you a drink, anyway."

Meredith rolled her eyes and shifted on her stool. Jeff turned to face her.

"Hey," he said, extending his hand. "I'm Jeff."

She forced herself to smile – it wasn't his fault Izzie was a headcase. "Meredith," she replied, accepting his handshake.

"Don't worry, I won't try to hit on you, now that I know you're not interested." He smiled, and Meredith felt her guard lower slightly.

"OK. And I won't make you buy my drinks, since this isn't a date."

He laughed, taking the stool beside her. "Deal."

She smiled. "OK then."

---

Meredith and Izzie laughed as Jeff finished his impression of the college professor he and Izzie had shared for intro-level chemistry. "Man, how we made it through that class, I'll never know. And how you became a doctor, I'll _definitely _never know."

Izzie feigned offense. "What, I'm not smart enough to be a doctor?"

He held up his hands. "Whoa. Nothing to do with smarts, Iz. Everything to do with the fact that you spent most of those classes asleep on your lab table."

She smiled sheepishly. "Yeah. Freshman year. Was still trying to figure out how to party until 3 a.m. and still make it through class the next day. Didn't nail that down until sophomore year."

They laughed again, the combination of storytelling and liquor making the room seem warm and soft around the edges.

"So Jeff… Izzie says you teach?"

He nodded as he took a sip of his beer. "High school science. Mostly chemistry, some physics. That's how Iz and I became friends… took most of the same science classes in college, with her going pre-med."

Meredith shuddered. "High schoolers. You must have a lot of patience. I hated high school."

He laughed. "Yeah, they can be tough. But I'd rather spend my days with difficult teenagers than adults. Teenagers, cynical and jaded though they may be, still have more optimism than adults."  
Meredith nodded. "Makes sense."

"OK," Izzie interrupted. "I have to use the ladies' room. Be right back." She hopped up from her barstool and weaved her way toward the back of the bar.

"So," Jeff said, turning to Meredith. "Was it because I'm horrifically unattractive?"

Meredith swallowed the mouthful of bourbon she had just taken and turned to face him. "Excuse me?"

"The reason you decided you weren't interested? Is it because I'm hideously ugly? You saw me standing in the doorway and were instantly turned off?" He smiled, letting her know he was kidding.

She laughed. "No. It wasn't that you're hideously ugly. Actually, I find that a turn-on. Hideously ugly is totally my type."

He laughed in return. "Well, damn. In that case, you're the girl of my dreams."

She laughed again. "No, actually I'm just… taking myself off the market for the time being. Working on me."

He nodded. "I can respect that." He glanced at her, squinting slightly. "Just get out of a bad relationship?"

She weighed his question. "Not a bad relationship, exactly. Just… a serious relationship."

"Which ended badly?"

She glanced at him and shrugged, raising her glass to her lips. "His wife showed up."

He winced. "Ooh. Ouch."

She nodded and laughed. "Yeah." She imagined a day down the road when it would become the punchline to a funny story and not the tale of woe it still felt like. "What about you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah. Why does a guy who, contrary to what he may believe, is good-looking and has a good job, need Izzie to fix him up on a blind date?"

He shrugged. "Just moved back into town, don't know a whole lot of people. And I'm not really into the whole go-to-a-bar-and-pick-up-a-chick routine."

She nodded. "Well, I'm sorry your first foray into the Seattle dating world didn't pan out."

He shrugged. "No worries. In addition to women, I'm also on the market for friends. You interested in another friend?" Meredith laughed. Oh, the irony. He frowned in confusion. "What?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. I'm always interested in more friends."

He nodded. "Good."

---

"Hey there, friend."

Meredith turned on her barstool to see Derek standing behind her. "Hey."

He nodded toward her glass. "Still on the bourbon kick, I see."

"New things," she reminded him.

He nodded again. "Right." He caught Joe's eye and nodded, signaling the usual.

Meredith saw him notice Jeff sitting beside her and she cleared her throat. "Uh, Derek. This is my – and Izzie's – friend, Jeff. Jeff, this is Derek Shepherd." The two men shook hands.

"Jeff. Good to meet you." He paused. "Meredith's never mentioned a friend named Jeff. Although she's been gaining friends pretty quickly lately." He fought a smile.

"Well, we just became friends," the other man replied. "I started the evening as Meredith's blind date, but she's taken herself off the market."

Derek raised an eyebrow and glanced at Meredith. "Really."

She glared at him. "Really."

He smirked at her for a moment before turning his attention back to Jeff. "Well, in that case, can I interest you in a game of darts?"

Jeff nodded. "Sure."

"You ever played?" Derek asked.

"I spent a year teaching in Dublin, so I picked up a thing or two while I was there," he replied.

Derek nodded. "Great. This will be fun." He picked up his drink off the bar and smiled at Meredith once again as he walked past her.

She shot him a glare as Jeff rose from his barstool and followed him toward the back of the bar.

"Boys," Izzie sighed.

"You're telling me," she replied, raising her drink to her lips and watching them walk away.

---

Derek sat in her driveway staring at the house towering before him in the early morning light. It occurred to him that he wasn't sure he'd seen her house in the middle of the day. It always felt like he was going to and from in the late-night or early-morning hours. He checked his watch: 5:15. He knew she'd be up and getting ready for her shift. He yawned and opened his car door, grabbing the tray of coffees and bag of bagels from his front seat. He walked up the front steps and tried the handle, disappointed when it was locked. He knocked softly and heard footsteps approaching the door. He stepped back slightly as the door opened and George's weary face appeared on the other side of the screen. He frowned in confusion. "Dr. Shepherd?"

"Good morning, Dr. O'Malley. I, uh… brought breakfast." He held up the bag. "And coffee." George stared at him for a moment, so he spoke again. "We're doing the friends thing. Me and Meredith." George nodded slightly and stared at him for another moment before cracking the screen door open and gesturing for him to come in. Derek stepped into the foyer and shivered as the warmth of the house enveloped him, erasing the chill of the early January morning.

"They haven't come down yet, but I heard them moving around up there so it should only be a few minutes."  
Derek nodded. "OK."

"I came down to put on some coffee."

"Oh." Derek extended the tray toward him. "Help yourself."

George nodded. "Thanks." He nodded toward the kitchen and gestured for Derek to follow. They entered and Derek took a seat at one of the counter stools. "So…" George began, searching his brain for appropriate conversation. Quite a task, first thing in the morning. "Got any interesting procedures scheduled today?"

Derek shook his head. "Not yet. We'll see what the hospital coughs up. The weekends are usually good for a couple closed-head injuries. Especially with people taking down holiday lights when their roofs are still icy."

George nodded. "I'll make sure to tell Izzie to leave it until February." He swallowed a sip of the coffee and noticed the other man's confused expression. "She's like the Santa's elf of the house."

"Ah." Derek nodded and grabbed a cup from the tray. "Yeah, I could see that."

He turned as he heard footsteps on the stairs. He was set to smile, but the smile died on his face as Jeff walked into the kitchen.

"Dr. Shepherd! Good morning!" He frowned. "You live here, too?"

Derek shook his head, trying to make himself formulate words. "No! No. I, uh, was just bringing coffee. And breakfast. Sorry, I didn't realize you would be here… I only got four. But I haven't had any of mine yet, so here. It's yours." At that moment, Meredith appeared behind him and her eyes widened in surprise as she registered Derek's presence in her kitchen. "Meredith!" he greeted. "Good morning. I was just stopping by to say hi, and bring breakfast. For my friends. And… uh… Jeff." He frowned. "Not that Jeff's not a friend. I mean, I don't know him… but you do, and so that's good enough for me. So… yeah. Coffee for my friends." He glanced around. "OK, well, I should be going. I'll, uh, see you at the hospital. Good seeing you again, Jeff."

He bolted from the house and walked quickly to the car, shaking his head as he got in, started it up, and backed down the driveway.

---

"Dr. Shepherd."

Derek glanced up from the medical journal that lay open before him on the table. He swallowed the bite of sandwich he had been chewing and leaned back in his chair. "Dr. Grey."

"Mind if I join you?"

He shook his head and gestured toward the empty chair across from him. "Be my guest." She lowered herself into the seat and placed her lunch tray on the table. She rested her elbows on the table and gazed at him. He frowned. "What?"

She shrugged. "You left in quite a hurry this morning. Didn't even stick around to enjoy breakfast."

He nodded. "Yeah, well, I felt badly… I hadn't realized Jeff would be at your house as well, so I only got enough for four."

She raised an eyebrow. "You literally almost tripped over the kitchen table on your way out because you were short a bagel?"

He shrugged. "Just taken aback."

She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. "You know, if we're going to be friends, you're going to have to anticipate that there may be other guys in my house from time to time."

He nodded. "I know. I just… wasn't expecting it."

She nodded in return. "Well, since we're friends…" A small smile graced her lips. "He stayed the night with Izzie. Not me."

Derek's eyes jumped to meet hers and he raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

She smiled. "Apparently a failed blind date with me was what they needed to realize they were actually attracted to each other." She shrugged. "Call me Cupid."

He laughed, and felt the tension leave his shoulders. He immediately felt guilty for how relieved he was, but told himself that as time wore on, he would get used to the idea of Meredith with another guy. He closed the medical journal and glanced at her, taking a sip from the bottle of water in front of him and chuckling. "I made an ass of myself, didn't I?"

She tried unsuccessfully to hide her smile. "Yeah. Kinda."

He shook his head. "I'm anticipating that I'll get better at not doing that."

She was still smiling. "I'm counting on it."

He gazed at her for a moment before speaking again. "I missed your smile."

"What?"

"Your smile. I miss it."

"What are you talking about? I smile all the time."

"Not your real smile."

"My real smile?"

"Yeah. You used to smile so that – never mind." He shook his head.

"What?"

"No, it'll sound corny and pathetic."

She smiled. "It's OK. Corny and pathetic to guys is usually heartwarming and charming to women."

He regarded her for a moment before sighing. "It used to touch your eyes. When you were smiling for real, I mean. It used to turn the corners of your eyes upward. Now it doesn't quite reach, somehow." He paused. "I miss the real Meredith-smile."

"Maybe I don't have anything to smile about right now." She shrugged. "Or maybe that wasn't my real smile."

Derek shook his head. "Don't do that."

"What?"

"Don't downplay what we had just because we don't have it anymore. Please. Just – don't do that. I don't think I could handle it if you took that from me."

She stared at him. "If Itook that from you? Derek, I'm not the one who took something."

He sighed. "I know. I'm sorry. That was out of line." He ran his hand through his hair. "I guess this friendship thing is going to take some getting used to."

She nodded. "Yeah, I guess it is."

They stared at each other for a moment before Meredith looked down to open her salad. "So," she said, pouring dressing over it. "When does Addison get back?"

He glanced at her and took another sip of his water. "This afternoon."

She nodded as Cristina, Izzie, Alex, and George entered the dining area and took their places at a table a few places down. She glanced at them and then at Derek.

He nodded and smiled. "Go."

She looked at him for a moment before nodding and picking up her tray. "Well, tell her I said hello."

He nodded again. "I will."

"OK." She turned and headed toward the table where her friends were waiting.

---

Derek sighed as he pulled into the imitation of a driveway outside his trailer and noted that the lights were on inside. He had gotten stuck in surgery and hadn't made it to the airport to meet his wife. He was becoming far too familiar with the emotion of guilt.

He grabbed his briefcase off the passenger seat and headed toward the trailer. He pushed open the door and dropped his bag inside it as he shrugged out of his coat. "Hey," he called toward the bedroom at the back of the trailer. "Welcome home. I'm sorry I didn't make it to the airport, I had a spinal stenosis…" The words died on his lips as he reached the doorway and saw his wife sitting on the bed with the condom wrapper in his hands.

He eyes rose to meet his and the guilt went from a ripple to a tidal wave. She held it up as she gazed at him.

"Been awhile since we used one of these."

---


	13. Truth is a Whisper

**Broken Promises for Broken Hearts**

_The title for this story is taken from the song "Broken Promises for Broken Hearts" by GW Childs.  
The title for this chapter is taken from the song "Truth is a Whisper" by The Goo Goo Dolls._

**Disclaimer:** If they were mine, I'd do all sorts of inappropriate things to them. Particularly to one Patrick Dempsey. Sadly, they are not.

**A/N: Once again, thank you for your comments; I enjoy reading them. Happy reading.  
**

* * *

**Chapter 13: Truth is a Whisper**

Derek leaned against the doorframe and stared at his wife holding the evidence of his latest betrayal. He was amazed at how thoroughly and severely he was managing to concurrently hurt two different women.

"Addie—"

"At least tell me it was Meredith."

Derek frowned, confusion obvious on his face. She shrugged. "I'd rather it was because you love someone else and not just because you felt the need to hurt me."

He sighed. "It's over, Addie. Me and Meredith. It's done. It's not going to happen again."

She shook her head, sadness and defeat visibly weighing her down. "We're done, Derek."

"Addie—"

"No, this… it's not just because of this. I slept with Mark, you slept with Meredith… none of that really matters anymore. It stopped being about adulterous sex a long time ago." She sighed and let the evidence fall from her hands. "I thought we could go back to being Addison-and-Derek. But we can't." She lifted her eyes to meet his, and he was pained by the hurt he saw in them. He was beginning to hate himself for causing so much pain in the women he cared about. She glanced at the ceiling of the trailer and blinked, trying to keep the tears pooling in her eyes from spilling down her face. She swallowed before facing him and speaking again. "If one of us doesn't tell the truth, we're going to end up ten years down the road with a marriage neither of us wants. You've always felt the need to be the good guy, Derek. To your mother, your sisters, your patients, me… If I let you be the good guy while I spend every moment wishing you had it in you to actually love me and not just feel obligated to me, we'll waste even more time than we already have." She noted without comment that he had stopped trying to argue with her. She brushed away the tears that had fallen from her eyes, despite her best efforts to hold them back. "Derek, I deserve someone who loves me. Just me. Someone who loves me completely, wholly, without any hesitation or reluctance. I know I've made mistakes, and I've screwed up, but I still think I deserve that." She wiped her cheek again. "And you deserve that, too. You deserve to be with someone you love, not someone you feel obligated to."

He gazed at her, his eyes pained. "I'm sorry, Addison," he said, watching her wipe her cheeks.

She offered him a watery smile. "I'm sorry, too, Derek."

His smile was apologetic as he lowered himself on the bed beside her and enveloped her in a hug.

---

"Dr. Grey, can I see you for a moment?"

Meredith opened her mouth to tell him that she had labs to run but was cut off as he grabbed her arm and directed her to the stairwell. "Derek—"

He held up a hand. "OK. We've wasted a lot of time, you and I. Playing games, hitting snags…" His voice faltered as he stared into her face. "We've wasted a lot of time. And I don't want to waste any more."

She frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"I want you," he said. Her eyes widened as he continued. "I've wanted you since the first night I saw you at Joe's. I wanted you then, I want you now, and I've wanted you every second in between. Because I love you. And I'm sorry that I hurt you, and I'll always be sorry about that. But if you give me the chance, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

She stared at him for a full minute before shaking her head. "What the hell are you talking about?" She raised an eyebrow. "This, Derek Shepherd, is not _friendly _behavior."

"I don't want to be friends."

She shook her head again. "You can't go back on that choice. You made the decision—"

"My marriage is over."

She stared at him, her argument dead on her tongue. "What?"

A small smile played on his lips as he said it again. "My marriage. Is over."

A twin smile played on her own face. "Seriously?"

His smile grew. "Seriously."

She frowned slightly. "But why?"

"Does it matter?"

She paused. "Kind of."

He shrugged. "Addison found the condom wrapper in my pocket. She was doing her laundry from her trip and threw mine in with it…" He trailed off and shrugged again. "She found it."

Meredith frowned slightly. "So… you told her what happened?"

"Well, the wrapper didn't leave much to the imagination."

She leaned against the stair railing. "So… what did she say?"

He shrugged. "She said that our marriage was over. That we were staying together for the wrong reasons…" He trailed off.

Meredith folded her arms across her chest. "So _she _was the one who ended it."

He frowned. "Technically, I guess."

She nodded. "So if she hadn't found the wrapper, you'd still be married right now. We wouldn't be having this discussion."  
Derek saw where the conversation was headed. "Meredith—"

"So your wife dumps you and suddenly you want to go back on the friendship thing and start up again." She shook her head. "It's too late, Derek."

"Meredith." He fell silent, not knowing how to argue with her.

She sighed. "Have you ever noticed how, after you've seen a movie, or read a book… once you know the ending, you can't escape it? Once you've seen how something ends, every part of the story leads to that same ending?" She gazed at him. "I've seen how this ends, Derek. I know what happens. You and I… all we've been this whole time are stop signs and u-turns."

He shook his head. "Meredith, this is it. That's what I'm saying. No more games. No more… u-turns."

She mimicked his head shake. "Do you have any idea… All the nights I spent without you, you spent them with your wife. And now that she decides she's done, I'm supposed to be… what? Thankful? That now you want to be with me?"

"Meredith…"

"No. It's not enough. I'm not a consolation prize. And I'm not saying this doesn't hurt me, because it does. But I've gotten used to hurting. Because the whole time… all those times I was awake in the middle of the night, or sitting alone on my couch, I was hurting because of you. Thinking about you. Remembering you. What your voice sounded like when you woke up in the morning. The rhythm of your breath when you slept. The warmth of your hand on my thigh when you were driving, and the smell of your neck. I could still hear, feel, see, remember all of it. But I moved past it. I pushed it out of my mind. Because that was what you asked me to do."

He shook his head. "Don't do this."

She gazed at him, her eyes level and expressionless. "It's already done." She uncrossed her arms and straightened, stepping away from the railing. "You picked your bed. It's not my fault it's empty now. You still have to sleep in it."

---

"Oh, God. She's back to tequila."

George, Izzie, and Cristina stood in the doorway to Joe's, watching Meredith tip a shot of the liquor down her throat. George glanced at the two women flanking him. "She tell either of you what's going on?" They both shook their heads and watched their friend stare at four empty shot glasses in front of her. George frowned and spoke again. "Are we late?"

Izzie glanced at the clock above the bar. "No. Why?"

He shrugged. "Well, either she got here early, or she's done four shots in a matter of minutes."

They shared a look once again and George and Izzie began walking toward where Meredith was sitting at the bar.

"Hold it." They stopped and looked at Cristina, who faced both of them. "We're dealing with self-destructive Meredith here. Self-destructive Meredith doesn't do tag-teaming well. You two go play darts or something while I feel it out."

"We're her friends, too," Izzie argued.

"Of course you are."

Izzie narrowed her eyes as she tried to determine whether the other woman was mocking her.

"She's right," George said after a moment. He glared at Cristina. "As annoying as _that _is."

"Thank you," Cristina replied. "Now, go… do something. Once I've gauged her suicidal tendencies, I'll let you know."

"Fine."

---

Derek stood in the middle of the small kitchen in his trailer, gazing around him. With all of Addison's things gone, it seemed much emptier. He hadn't thought that was possible. It had seemed bare when he first moved into it, but his anguish over his wife's adultery and his best friend's betrayal had filled every corner of the trailer like it was another person and kept him company. And then came Meredith. Once she came into the picture, nothing about his life felt empty anymore. She filled the void in his trailer and the holes in himself and the emptiness all but disappeared. Then Addison showed up, and with the two people living in the trailer plus the ghost of the third, it was all but overcrowded.

But now… now, there was nothing.

No wife.

No girlfriend.

Nothing.

He wasn't even convinced that he was entirely there himself.

His trailer felt empty. Hollow.

Just like he felt.

---

"Hey." Cristina draped her jacket and purse over a stool and lowered herself onto the one next to Meredith, who nodded in response. "You OK?"

She shrugged and stared down into the full shot in front of her. Cristina shook her head at Joe, who was waiting to make her a drink.

"He decided he wanted to be friends."

Cristina snorted. "Yeah, I heard. I'm guessing _that's _going well."

She shook her head. "It's not going at all." She sighed. "Addison left him."

Cristina raised her eyebrows. "She left _him_? Why?"

Meredith snuck a glance at her friend. "She found the condom wrapper from when we slept together."

Her friend frowned. "On New Year's?"

Meredith glanced at her and Cristina could see the guilt in her eyes. "Oh, Meredith. Not again."

"Yeah, again."

"So…"

"So, nothing. She left him. He told me his marriage was over and he wanted to try us out again. I basically told him to go to hell and that I wasn't a consolation prize." Cristina sighed and grabbed a handful of peanuts from the bar. "I just wanted it to be easy," Meredith said after a few minutes. "I really thought I could move on. Eventually."

"I didn't."

Meredith turned to face her, a frown on her face. "What?"

"Look, we both know he's not one of my favorite people. But I know how much you liked him. Loved him. Whatever. And he didn't exactly seem like it was his main priority to help you move on. You know, since he refused to keep it in his pants." She paused. "Or in his wife." She shrugged. "Obviously, he didn't want you to move on any more than you wanted to move on." She popped a peanut in her mouth.

"But I _did_—"

"No you didn't. Listen, Meredith… the good thing about being me is that I can see in other people the qualities that I have that suck. And you're a prime example. You pretend like you feel nothing to hide the fact that you feel everything. You act like nothing gets to you, when the truth is that it gets to you so much that you wind up here, pounding shots of Jose and completely unable to remember your own name by the end of the night." She pinned her friend with a stare. "And I don't give advice often, so pay attention." Meredith looked at her expectantly. "Don't choose loneliness, thinking it's going to keep you from getting hurt." Her friend stared at her and she softened. "You still love him? Despite all the baggage and the bullshit and the McDrama? You still love him?"

Meredith weighed the question in her mind before nodding slowly.

Cristina scoffed. "Big surprise." She shrugged. "Well, then I think that's really all you need to know."

"But—"

Cristina held up her hand. "Look, I love you and you're my friend, but I'm already getting bored with talking about McDreamy. The bottom line is, you're miserable because you're not with him, and now you have the chance to be with him. If you don't at least give it a try, you're going to be miserable for the rest of your life, wondering what might have happened. And I want us to be friends, and if you're going to be depressed and wretched like this forever, I don't see that happening."

Meredith fell silent and turned her gaze to the rows of liquor bottles behind the bar. She stared at the rainbow of colored glass and wondered. How much had she lost, trying to live her life so that she had nothing to lose?

---

He tipped the last of his beer down his throat as he sat on the deck outside the trailer, leaning back in his chair until it was balancing on two legs. He gazed out over the land before him, wondering what he would do with it now. He had bought it on a whim, when he was running from something and trying to find something else to run toward. He had started imagining it with a house. A yard. A swing. Real-life things. But now, all he saw was land. Open, empty land.

He turned as two headlight beams cut through the darkness and he heard the gravel of his driveway crunch beneath a set of tires. Blinded by the light, he squinted as the car drew to a stop at the top of the driveway and he heard a door open and close. The car reversed back down the driveway and he shielded his eyes, making out a silhouette against the bright beams of light.

Meredith.

He stood up, walking to the edge of the porch and feeling his breath hitch as her face came into focus.

She stopped at the bottom of the porch stairs and gazed at him. "Hey."

"Hey," he replied. They faced each other like that for a few moments before he gestured toward the empty driveway. "What's with the drop-off?"

She shrugged. "I spent a few hours with Jose earlier."

He nodded. "No more bourbon?"

She gazed up at him, tilting her head slightly to one side. "No more bourbon." He waited for her to continue and she sighed. "I'm not as interested in trying new things as I thought." He nodded slowly, unwilling to jump at her words until he was sure of what she was saying. She began climbing the stairs toward him and pointed toward his empty beer bottle. "Got any more of those?"

He nodded and returned to the chair he had been sitting in, bending down and retrieving two more bottles from the cooler beside it. He opened one and extended it toward her. "Thanks," she said, taking a sip and sinking into the other chair. He returned to his own chair and gazed at her, opening his own bottle and taking a drink. "You were right," she said after a moment. "We have wasted a lot of time."

He nodded. "Mmhm."

Her stomach flipped at the noise. She loved that noise. She shrugged. "If I lie to you and tell you I don't want to be with you, that would be more time wasted. If I'm honest with you, and tell you that it scares me that Addison ended it instead of you, that would be even more time wasted. And as much as I don't want to waste any more time, I also don't want to start this thing all over again just to have it end the same way."

He leaned toward her and, finally, spoke. "Meredith." She raised an eyebrow. "What you said earlier? About knowing how things end?" She nodded. "You can't know how they end. Because they're not over. We hit a snag. A stop sign. It wasn't the end."

"So then tell me. How does this end?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. But I've never been a big fan of endings. So how about we just focus on the beginning." She gazed at him for a moment before nodding slowly. He nodded in return and smiled. "OK. Well, I recently heard you were off the market, but I was wondering if you would let me take you to dinner sometime."

A smile twitched at the corner of her mouth. "Dinner?"

He nodded. "Do you have plans?"

She shrugged. "For when?"

His head tilted to the side and he grinned. "For the rest of my life."

---

She sighed as she buried her face in his pillow, feeling his warm body curl around her from behind. She smiled into the darkness as she listened to the wind blowing through the trees that lined his property and the rustle of the wilderness that surrounded them. She had missed those sounds. The lullaby of Derek's trailer. She giggled, wondering how many people ever used the words "lullaby" and "trailer" in the same sentence.

"What's so funny?" he murmured into her hair.

She shook her head slightly. "Nothing."

"If you're laughing, that must mean you have some energy left… we could fix that, you know."

She raised an eyebrow, even though her back was to him. "You still have energy left?"

She felt him scatter soft kisses on her bare shoulder. "I can have energy if you want me to have energy."

She giggled again and scooted backward slightly so that her back was flush against his warm chest. "I already have everything I want."

"Mmm." She savored the feel of his chest vibrating against her shoulder blades as he made the sound.

"I love that."

"What?"

"That sound you make. That 'Mmm' sound."

"Mmm."

She giggled again.

"I love _that_ sound," he said.

"What?"

"You laughing. I missed that sound," he admitted.

She sighed. "I missed this."

"Yeah." He breathed in deeply, tightening his arm around her and entwining his legs with hers. He heard her sigh again and rested his forehead against the back of her head, listening to the sound of her breathing as it slowed and became deep and even.

"Meredith?"

"Mmm?"

"Those plans you were making? The slow-dances-in-the-kitchen, happily-ever-after-plans?"

"Mmhmm?"

He lifted his head from the pillow and leaned in toward her ear, his voice a whisper. "Don't change them."

---


End file.
